A Minstrel’s Quest (The Trouble with Magic Book 4) (15 page)

Corlin watched over his shoulder until Otty and Egg were hidden by a curve in the wall, then began his search for the road which would take him past the city and up into the foothills of the mountains. The road past the south gate seemed to him to be the most likely place to start and he soon found himself at a point where the road forked. To his right he could see the gate, a steady stream of travellers and traders passing in and out. A few laden wagons trundled past him heading west, but the majority seemed to be heading into the city on the broader, more frequently used road which seemed to curve around the city and go off in a general easterly direction. Travellers on his own intended outward route were few and far between.

Half hoping he might catch sight of Otty, he sat for a while at the side of the road and watched the traffic, thankful that no-one was taking much notice of him. He had already decided that if anyone asked his business, he would tell them he was waiting for someone, not that it was anyone’s business anyway. The unmistakable sounds of a commotion just inside the gate piqued his curiosity and he kneed Megan forward a pace or two, for a closer look. His brain had barely registered the large wagon which had been brought to a halt and was effectively blocking the exit, when something else caught his eye. There was no mistaking the braided leather hatband of the rider who was already turning away and heading back into the city. Once again Corlin was struck by the notion that there was something familiar about the man, but he had disappeared into the crowd, and the moment was lost.

Not wanting to hang around any longer, Corlin rode away from the potentially ugly situation in the vicinity of the gate and turned Megan towards the far side of the city. More than a mile of hard-packed stone, the road followed the line of the wall, a twenty-yard-wide strip of trampled ground between them providing meagre sanctuary for beggars, vagrants and hawkers of the cheap and tawdry unable to raise the price of a trader’s licence. Their only comfort was the warmth of a south-facing wall, and a view of open ground which sloped gently downwards to a large wooded area half a mile away. Beyond that, a range of hills marched south-easterly, a broad swath of bluish brown haze crossing the land for as far as Corlin’s eyes could see.

With the end of the city in sight, he felt his attention drawn to an old thin-faced woman seated at the foot of the wall. Wrapped about in a grubby assortment of ragged fabrics which barely warranted being called clothing, she crouched behind a dilapidated wicker basket. Corlin smiled at the memory which stirred as he glanced down at the hazelnuts mixed with another type of large round nut with a wrinkled shell which he failed to recognise. He brought Megan to a halt and slipped from the saddle. In the brief moment he had his back to her, the old woman glanced at his twisted foot, her thin-lipped mouth twitched with satisfaction, and she fumbled briefly under the woollen rag she might have called a shawl. As he approached she smiled up at him, a toothless gape which carried a warm greeting into her bright birdlike eyes.

Corlin crouched down on his haunches and picked up one of the large round nuts. “What might these be, old mother?”

She chuckled and pointed a bony forefinger at the nut in his hand. “They be walnuts my ‘andsome. Something new for you, eh?”

Before he could answer, her hand darted forward and snatched the nut he was holding. “Here, let me show you.”

Picking another from the basket she held the two walnuts close together between cupped hands and squeezed. Corlin heard a sharp crack. The old woman opened her hands like a dish, and offered the contents, golden brown curiously formed kernels lying half out of their cup-like shell. Corlin picked one out of the old woman’s hand and tentatively nibbled.

The old woman’s eyes sparkled. “Well, my ‘andsome, what d’you reckon?”

Corlin nodded his approval, picked up another and popped it into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed and grinned. “Those are very good. What price are you asking?”

She chuckled again and looked hard into his face. Her voice lowered to a hoarse whisper. “For you my handsome, there is only one price. You takes all or you takes none; and that is my price also. I takes all or I takes none.”

Corlin was baffled. “What d’you mean,
you
take all? Is this some kind of trick?”

He began to rise to his feet but the old woman grabbed his sleeve and pulled him down again. “Show me your coin, my ‘andsome; all of it. You will see this is no trick.”

A quick glance around told Corlin there was no-one close enough to witness this exchange. The old woman had chosen her pitch carefully, well away from anyone who might take it into their head to interfere. With some reluctance he dipped his hand into his coat pocket and pulled out the small amount of money he had, just a quarter silver, three coppers and two halves. In amongst them lay the two-coloured metal coin Browd had given him. He was about to pick it out to put back in his pocket, when the old woman’s hard bony hand closed round his wrist and held fast.

She peered closely at the coin but didn’t touch it. “Mmm. As I thought.” She looked up and held his gaze. “Give me all your coin except that one. Then you may take all the walnuts...” She reached inside her shawl. “...including this one.”

Intrigued, Corlin leaned forward for a closer look. At a quick glance the nut in the old woman’s hand looked like any other walnut, just a little larger. Even so, Corlin suspected it wasn’t real.

He reached out a finger to touch it but the old woman drew back her hand. “Not until it’s yours, my ‘andsome. All or nothing.”

Corlin frowned. “Suppose I choose nothing. What then?”

She shook her head, dislodging the shawl to reveal lank and greasy grey hair. “That is a question that has no answer. Only you can decide.”

For a brief moment it seemed to Corlin that the shell of the nut glowed softly. He felt manipulated, yet deep down he knew that this whole situation was somehow inextricably linked to his quest. Browd’s words about making his own decisions came back to him, and right now he could have strangled the hairy-faced Grollart for being so annoyingly right. The crouching was making his foot uncomfortable. He stood up straight and contemplated the coins in his hand. If he gave them to the old woman, he would have a few pounds of nuts, and no money to buy food when the supply in the saddlebags ran out.

The old woman placed the replica walnut slowly and deliberately on top of those in the basket, pulled the grubby shawl over her head and folded her hands. Corlin turned away, his fingers closing over the last of his money as he moved towards Megan. He looked up and along the road to the point where it took a long curve before disappearing round the end of the city wall. A movement caught his eye. His mouth set in a determined line, he patted Megan’s neck, turned and made his way back to the old woman. Crouching down again, he gently took her hand and dropped his quarter silver and the coppers into it.

She hissed through her shrunken gums. “What changed your mind?”

Corlin gave a wry smile. “A braided hat-band.”

The old woman’s expression was unreadable. She gestured towards the basket of nuts. “Take as many as you need, my ‘andsome.”

He looked into her dark bird-like eyes. “How many can you sell, old mother?”

She winked. “As many as you leave me, I can sell.”

Corlin nodded, took a deep breath, picked up the replica walnut and slipped it into his inside pocket.

The old woman nodded as if satisfied. “So you will see what cannot be seen.”

As Corlin stood up, the old woman pulled a grubby white cotton bag from somewhere among the rags which surrounded her. Two generous handfuls of mixed hazelnuts and walnuts were scooped into the bag and the neck tied in a tight knot.

She held the bag up to him. “For when you get hungry.” A strange smile flickered across her wrinkled face. “You should have taken them all.”

Detecting something, perhaps a hint of warning in her tone, Corlin stared for a moment, then slapped the palm of his hand against his forehead. “Of course! Otty! He’d love these.”

Lifting the now half-empty basket she pushed it up towards him. “Who is Otty?”

Corlin grinned. “You could say he’s my travelling companion. His decision, not mine. “He looked around. “He’s ...er...gone exploring. We’ll probably meet up later.”

Taking the bag and basket from her outstretched hands, he pushed the bag into a saddlebag then tipped the rest of the nuts in loose.

He placed the empty basket down in front of the old woman. “You did say all or nothing. Thank you.”

She simply nodded, watching with interest as he clambered into the saddle. With Megan back on the road he turned and gave the old woman a wave goodbye. She responded with a nod, and pulled her threadbare shawl tighter round her narrow shoulders. At the end of the city wall, Corlin turned Megan towards the east gate and looked back down the road. The old woman was gone. His eyes searched the people moving in and out of the south gate but there was no sign of her. It was as if she had never been there at all. He leaned back and flipped open the saddlebag. The nuts were still there, solid and reassuring. Indulging himself with an Otty style shrug, he kneed Megan into a gentle amble towards the east gate, half a mile away.

He had a notion to wait around for a while on the chance that Otty might appear, but that idea was scrapped as he drew closer, the noticeable scarcity of traffic explained by the closed and heavily barred gate set into the city wall. The east gate had obviously not been in use for some time. Turning back he headed for the staggered crossroads only a few hundred yards from the start of the city’s east wall. With Megan reined in at the roadside, he surveyed his options.

The broadest and busiest road led off to his left through open country until it was lost from view amongst acres of dense woodland. At the back of this, the hills he had seen earlier appeared as a distant blue-brown haze. Over to his right the ground, which sloped up from the road, was covered by a seemingly endless forest of conifers, providing shelter from the winds which would doubtless howl down from the mountains to batter the city’s east wall. Then he began to wonder why the east gate was permanently closed and so heavily barred. It was much closer to the crossroads than the south gate and so would have been far more accessible. A disturbing thought crossed his mind, and as it grew he grimaced and cursed himself for a fool as the ruined city wall and the inaccessible east gate began to build a terrifying story in his mind. He could only guess that some horror had come down from the mountains in a time long past, and left the city the way it was.

He could see no road, or any indication that there had ever been one as he rode slowly back down towards the east gate, his keen eyes searching the rising ground at the forest’s edge. Against all hope, he found what he was looking for. He also found something he wasn’t. Fifty yards before the gate, a ten-foot-wide depression in the ground marked the start of the road into the mountains. Grass and nettles at the verge, and a thick layer of pine needles covering the road beneath the trees spoke of its lack of use, but a clear set of hoof-prints leading upwards told him that one traveller had used it very recently. He had no doubts about who that someone was. A watery sun was already dipping below the line of the city’s west wall, throwing the beginning of the mountain road into cold deep shadow. Taking advantage of the last of the daylight, he rummaged in the saddlebags for something to eat. To his surprise he also found a small canteen of water, and gratefully washed down his snack as he looked around in case Otty had decided to put in an appearance, but there was no sign of him. With an encouraging click of his tongue he urged Megan forward through the nettles onto the neglected road and up into the suffocating gloom of the forest.

Barely a hundred yards into the forest, Corlin discovered that he had made a mistake. Ill defined, even in daylight, the road was now impossible to see under the dense canopy of conifer branches. With hindsight Corlin realised he should have left this until the next day, and found lodging for the night in the city.

His inner self gave him a nudge. “What would you have used for money? Walnuts?”

Giving himself a good-humoured mental kicking, he eased back into the saddle and let Megan’s remarkable sense of direction take them forward through the darkness and up the long shallow incline. After an hour of steady plodding, Corlin felt the ground level out, and Megan picked up the pace without any prompting. He peered into the darkness, but all he could see were Megan’s white ears and the curve of her mane. Confident as always in her ability to find her way, Corlin had let his mind wander, thinking about everything and nothing in particular, when Megan tossed her head and whickered, a gentle untroubled sound which Corlin recognised as a greeting. Something glinted for a second in the darkness.

Corlin called out “Hello! Who’s there?”

There was no reply, but ahead and over to his right two small green lights winked on and just as quickly winked out. Despite Corlin’s determined efforts to hold her back, Megan turned aside and headed eagerly towards the spot. The green lights, although seen only for a second, reminded Corlin of those used by Frix and his troops, and he wondered whether this dark forest was also inhabited by giant ants. The lights appeared again, bright and green, and side by side, and Corlin found himself undecided whether to chuckle or be worried. There was little doubt that the lights were eyes, but to what they belonged Corlin could only guess. Whatever it was, Megan was following it, making light work of the ridges and hollows in the increasingly uneven ground, which was now also taking them higher. The night wore on, and more than once Corlin dozed in the saddle, only to be jerked into wakefulness as Megan took sharp detours or picked her way down steep-sided gullies which threatened to tip him over her ears. An occasional glimpse of the green eyes, always just a few yards ahead, assured him that she wasn’t lost but still following their mystery guide.

A waft of cold breeze in his face, and the clatter of Megan’s hooves on stony ground told him they had left the sound-muffling carpet of pine needles and were emerging from the forest. Long dark angular silhouettes loomed in front of him, limned against a marginally lighter sky. It would soon be dawn. The green eyes were now stationary, and fixed on him from about eight feet above the ground. Corlin felt a twinge of misgiving as Megan walked straight towards them, whiffled a greeting and came to a halt. The eyes blinked as their owner turned to profile. The creature stretched and yawned. Corlin’s gasp of surprise and relief exploded in a cloud of white vapour on the chilly morning air as the cat leapt to the ground and was lost among the dense shadows.

Feeling slightly silly but somehow obligated, Corlin called out “ ’Bye Puss! Thank you!”

There was no reply, but the minstrel thought he heard the faint clatter of a dislodged pebble, far over to his left.

His legs and backside aching from a night in the saddle, Corlin clambered down and followed the cat’s example, stretching tight limbs and indulging in a deeply satisfying yawn. A rummage in the saddlebags produced a breakfast of oat biscuits, spiced sausage and dried fruit. In his lifetime he had seen the sun rise more times than he cared to count, but he wanted to take a good look around before travelling any further. After feeding a handful of the oat biscuits to Megan, he settled himself against the side of the huge rock to which the cat had led them, and broke his fast while he watched the sky grow lighter. It was only when the sun’s disc began to appear that Corlin was compelled to push himself to his feet and stare. His heart began to pound, and he could feel a lump forming in his throat. With his hand shielding his eyes from the glare, he gazed for a few minutes, despairing at the scene that stretched out for miles in front of him and as far as he could see to his right. Eventually he turned away. Desperate for someone to talk to he threw his arms round Megan’s neck.

With her warm nose nuzzling his shoulder he gave voice to his feelings. “What are we going to do now, lovely girl? I can’t believe it has to end here.” His voice cracked with emotion. “If not for the cat we’d have both gone to our deaths!”

He stood for many minutes, eyes closed, head bowed, fighting to dispel the waves of hopelessness which threatened to drown the sensible and constructive thoughts he was trying to muster. Managing to get his emotions once more under control, he gave Megan’s neck a reassuring pat, turned and took a few paces forward. Trying hard to be objective, he once again surveyed the landscape which had caused his heart to sink. Inches from his toes a sheer drop formed one wall of a wide canyon, a massive bastion of dark grey rock, running in jagged parallel to its twin, half a mile away on the other side of a fast flowing river. Tumbling over rocks and swirling through rapids it rushed north-east to south-west about five hundred feet below the spot where Corlin stood. To his left the forest edge clung to the brink of a cliff, poised to follow the massive chunk of rock, soil and lumber which had not too long ago broken away, to settle its bulk in a tangled and muddy swath at the water’s edge.

He looked behind him at dense ranks of conifers, their dark foliage tipped with flecks of golden sunlight and casting dark impenetrable shadows over the uninviting forest floor. At the back of the rocky platform something glinted. Stepping forward to investigate, Corlin relaxed and smiled as he drew nearer. Time and erosion had carved a shallow basin in the rock, and the previous day’s rain had filled it with clear clean water. Crouching down, he cupped his hands and lifted the cold refreshing liquid to his mouth. A couple more scoops were all he had chance to take before Megan was beside him. In seconds the natural rock basin was empty, but both horse and man had satisfied their thirst. Cold, with a sweetly metallic tang, the stimulus of the water soon had a positive effect on Corlin’s mood. Determined now not to admit defeat, he began to think things through, even as he had a number of times already.

Not given to pacing, for obvious reasons, he stood arms folded and stared into the dark spaces beneath the trees. He shifted his weight onto his good leg, the movement of his shadow letting a spot of sunlight strike the ground just beyond the edge of the tree-line. He didn’t need a second look at the clear impression that the light revealed. His hopes rising, he moved forward into the trees and looked for another. The dry pine needles did not hold such a clear hoof-print as the first, but in a few minutes he had found enough of them to show him which way the rider was going. Megan had wandered after him and was standing at the edge of the forest where it gave way to the massive rock platform. Behind and over to the right, Corlin could see the gap through which the cat had led them the night before. As he climbed into the saddle he wondered if the helpful feline was somewhere nearby.

With his eyes fixed on the ground he steered Megan under the trees, following the path marked by the barely visible hoof-prints. It was not an easy route to follow, and he could tell by the movements of her ears and the frequent snorts that she was not a happy horse. Corlin frequently had to dismount as Megan picked, skittered and braced over lumpy root-bound ridges and down steep earth banks, as the way led ever downward. Suddenly, after negotiating one particularly steep bank, he found himself on a road that emerged from the debris of a massive landslide. Rock-strewn and barely wide enough for one horse to walk comfortably, it snaked its way back and forth across the cliff face towards the canyon floor. Two hours later, their thirsts quenched with icy fresh mountain river water, man and horse stood on the reassuring and comparative solidity of a broad strip of shingle at the water’s edge.