Hawkmoon (The Hawkmoon Chronicles) (16 page)

                                                           Soulbiter.

Supper was served in the Longhouse with Hawkmoon and Bekter as honoured guests. Bekter was in his element, basking in the adulation of the River Folk. The woman who offered herself to the Reivers sat in his lap.

Hawkmoon went to his room early, relieved to be away from the chatter . He took oil and a cloth to the crossbow.  The short sword was nicked. It would need edging. He sat, staring at the axe. Eyes drooping with fatigue he wrapped himself in a blanket.

When he woke the room was freezing. Ice formed on the inside of the windows. His breath came in clouds of vapour. The axe was floating in mid-air . As he looked black smoke   poured from the blades . The oil lamp guttered and the light faded. Red eyes gleamed at him from the dark  Soon a face was visible. It  was human in a vague sense, a mouth full of teeth filed and pointed. It bared its lips in a grotesque parody of a smile.

“Greetings Deathwalker.” The voice was low, rough, like nails over glass.

“Who are you?”

“I am the  Soulbiter.

“Why are you here?”

“To meet my new master.”

“Demons obey no one  but sorcerers and that only until they are paid... Why are you here?

“To serve”

“If you know me you know I  am wise in your ways.  Your  service would come at a price I would never pay. I could throw the axe  in the river. It would never be seen again”

“There you are wrong.You will take the axe  because you cannot risk  it falling to another. You will live with it even as it consumes you. No other has your strength. It will be my darkness against your light. We will see who is victorious”

                                                       Downriver.

The morning  came late with fog on the water so thick the far bank could not be seen They could have been standing  at the edge of the  sea.. Bekter was  with the headman  who had had provided  a boat. It was narrow and rode high on the water. Hawkmoon sat on a stone nearby. The girl from the night before helped Bekter load the stores.

“I have drawn a map of the river from here to the gorge. It is as detailed as I remember.   There are settlements here and here”Angos said, pointing at the map “they are  hostile. Stop and wait for night before you pass. If they spot you they will follow in war canoes. Each of them carry eight paddles. You cannot outrun them. I have marked points to look out for so you can stop before you are too near. There are rapids but nothing dangerous until you reach the Gorge. This is important…you have to be off the river before the canyons. If you are carried in you will not get out. “

Bekter  folded the map. “Thank you for this and the boat.”

“It is little enough for what you did… He seems somewhat down at the mouth this morning” Angos remarked, nodding at Hawkmoon.Bekter shrugged”He is like that after a fight… When are you leaving?”

“There are hunting parties out and people in the woods that must be brought in. Perhaps we will meet again down river?The Spirits of Water   protect you”

“And you my friend.. Hawkmoon, get  in, we’re leaving”Bekter  stowed the food away. The girl touched Bekter on the arm. “Take me with you”

“Lass, I tell you truly, you are safer  with your people. Where we are headed, there is little  chance we will survive. If I live through it I have a family to go back to…”

”The fog was thinning out with  the sun  clear of the mountains. The headman called from the bank “Use  the pole for the shallows and watch for sand banks. Stay to the middle as much as you can.”

Hawkmoon sat up front; not speaking.. Bekter  told the headman it was  his way after a fight but Hawkmoon was talkative after  battle. This was the first  time Bekter had seen him with an axe. After dawn, he watched him train with it. Battle axes are unsuitable for tall men. The centre of gravity is too high.Hawkmoon used it like an expert. Fully balanced, powerful swings, never exposing himself long enough for a counter blow. Earlier, when the girl made to touch it he slapped her hand away.They moved out into the stream. Angos  said the fog  came on the river at this time of year; a herald of cold weather. It would hide them from spying eyes..

The headman had done well by them There was smoked fish, fruit and cornmeal. Bekter offered him a plate of cooked fish, sliced apples and a mug of sloe wine. Hawkmoon left it untouched. The day passed with the sun failing to pierce the murk. As the light dimmed Bekter guided  their craft to an island in the middle of the river. 

Dragging the boat to cover , Bekter found a hollow to set up camp.. Snow began to fall .  Covering Hawkmoon  in a  blanket, he wrapped himself in the coat Shula  made for him.  She had spent a winter making it from the hide of a Bison. Her scent was on it. At least the cold would keep the sand fleas away…

He sat  overlooking the sea. A soft wind brushed his face.. Someone sat alongside
. 

She was old, dressed  in black ,  a shawl  over  white hair; her  skin lined  with age . Her eyes were large, brimming with life. The moonlight caught flecks of gold in their depths...

“Are you a witch”

The old woman laughed.” No child...”

“Where am I? What is this place?”

“Your body is at the river, with your friend. You are safe…for now. “

“Why am I here?”

“You have fallen into despair. It  is a trap laid for your spirit.  The Demon spoke true, you must fight.

“I do not listen to advice from demons”

“You are wise but sometimes, despite themselves, demons speak truth.”

“I have been fighting all my life.

“I know… You fought for the people at the river though they will die soon enough. You are full of loneliness. You laugh and joke with people and few see what you keep hidden. You turned aside from the love of a Queen. That was noble. Something holds you to your course regardless of the cost. Riseacsacsli9b now and continue to write the story of your life.”

The smell of cooking woke  Bekter. Hawkmoon was bent over the fire, fish  sizzling in  the pan.

“Eat this while I load up. I want to make good distance today”

                                                                  Rapids.

The river  rose and the current grew stronger… Ice formed at the banks. The temperature dropped . The wind that had brought them  turned south driving snow before it. He watched his friend. Hawkmoon was having those dreams ; the ones that left him hollow eyed in the morning. Bekter kept the map close watching for danger. Except for a near miss with a piece of wreckage from the bridge, the day passed without incident. They passed   villages empty of people and animals. Some had houses still smouldering. At one four men followed in a war  canoe .Arrows were fired but fell  short. Bekter put up a small sail. With this and the oars they raced to the next bend.  Hawkmoon pointed at shallow  water  rising to a shingle beach.

“Better keep going, we can outrun them if the wind holds. That canoe is built for eight warriors, there are only four. Sooner or later they will give up” They came on behind, pulling with deep strokes. The wind eased allowing the canoe to get close  enough for arrows. Turning in the narrow craft   Bekter fired with the  big crossbow and one of them fell out ... The canoe  sheered away  and began the work of  making their way upstream. The body floated past.

“We have come too far.  We passed a stand of Oak and two round boulders at opposite sides those were marks we were not to pass in daylight”

Spotting a hard shingle beach they rowed to the bank . Lifting  the craft  from the water they manhandled it into the underbrush. It was heavy but dragging it would leave tracks They were hardly in the trees when a war party went by heading upstream. The body of the one Bekter  shot  must have been seen. The canoes were similar to the one that followed them but these had eight warriors.

They had no way of knowing if the war party that went upstream was part of a larger force or on its own. Covering the boat they settled to wait for dark. After a quick meal Bekter went for a look around and   came on a small cave further back.  They moved in, spending the night with a family of foxes.

Heavy fog came with dawn, shrouding the river.  It was broad here and slow. They drifted, using the oars with care lest a splash carry in the silence. Whispers seemed unnaturally loud. Urinating in a wooden bowl they dipped it in the water. It went on like that all day, fog so heavy it deprived them of sight or means to form a notion of time. The river flowed, so slowly it was hard to know which direction or indeed if they were moving at all. Hawkmooon sat at the front. From time to time his hand would reach to   his side, caressing the blades of the axe, its edges speckled with moisture. The fog lifted as dusk fell  changing one  dark  for another.

The river narrowed as it made a right hand turn. Lights came through the murk. The sound of voices carrying over the water. A scream rent the morning. They grabbed for their weapons. The sound was repeated ending in moans. The headman  had warned; do not to be taken alive. If they were captured, it was  the women who would come  with knives.  If the man were strong they would tend to him, stitching the cuts and coating them with salve. When he was healed they would start again. If he lived long enough for them to get bored they would sell him to a neighbouring clan.

The current picked up in mid river and they floated past the lights. They bent  low   hoping if the boat was seen it would be mistaken for a  tree trunk.  The captive was screaming, encouraged by jeers of the men and laughter from the women.  Something caught the bow, turning the boat. In a moment the boat was broadside on to the current. Bekter reached into the water. His hand connected with a branch. He breathed in relief, expecting a net or chain left to catch passing boats. Slipping over the side Hawkmoon passed him a knife with a serrated edge. They set to cutting their way free. Without warning the branch floated free. It rolled taking Bekter underneath. He came to the surface, spluttering.  A rope fell on his face slipping  round his throat. For a moment it tightened  strong enough to choke him. He grabbed  it with both hands.... Hawkmoon pulled him to the side. They waited while the current took them downriver before he clambered back inside.  Something bit him as he left the water. Hawkmoon saw a shape detach itself from Bekter’s foot

It was beginning to snow. Bekter trembled, face turning blue..Hawkmoon   searched for the last   heat stones.  He   stuffed it inside Bekter’s clothing  The Bison robe  came next. It would have to do until they were away.

The sun rose beaming light through the woods. Snow was thick on the banks; ice building at the edges.. Hawkmoon judged the next trouble spot still a day off. Bekter slept as Hawkmoon steered. A ribbon of islands appeared midriver, some  rocky, others were mud banks. Some of the bigger plots had  abandoned shacks. . Hawkmoon loaded the crossbow and lay flat  in the boat. They slipped past.

Bekter slept through the day, face beaded with sweat. When he removed the boot Hawkmoon saw a red  puncture  above the ankle. The leg from toe to calf was red and swollen. Hawkmoon pressed it

“Considering how far we’ve come a bite is little enough”

Bekter gasped  “It’s not your foot.”

Hawkmoon took crystals from his pack. Selecting the blue he  put it over the bite mark and wrapped it in a dry kerchief. As it took effect  Bekter started to doze and stayed asleep until  they approached their next stopping place.. Hawkmoon risked a light to see the foot . The bite was leaking pus.. The island had a shack with slates on the roof .The floor was dry sand. Bekter forced himself to eat.

Next day a flight of birds crossed the river to  the front. They made their homes  in the Mallorn. Each tree had a  single nesting pair. They ate  Mallorn fruit and took its seed with them as they flew. This morning he  counted  twelve . Somewhere beyond the river was a Mallorn wood . Watching he made a note to tell the witches..One circled above and dipping a wing arrowed to their  little craft.. It lifted again and flew away  leaving a single golden feather to drift  into Bekter’s lap..

“Put it in your hat band. It’s good luck”

A splash  made them turn.  A shape passed under the boat, gliding to the bank. It rose from the water and stepped onto the sand.  A girl, dressed in green, water running from long red hair. Mist formed about her and followed her steps.. She beckoned to them. Hawkmoon reached for the oars.

“What are you doing?”

“She wants us to come with her”

“So do vampires. Would you go with them?”

“She is not a vampire. She is an elemental, a spirit of the water. They are friends and they can help us but you have to know how to behave around them”
“There are others? “

“Three. This is a powerful river so they are powerful. You must not frighten them. No loud talk or sudden movements. They are shy around people. Their essence resides in the humid ether so they have the capacity to live in water and control it. They are good friends to some and deadly to others. Don’t touch anything. Take only what is offered; do not refuse. If the food they offer is raw or has a strange taste, eat it. Take nothing else. “

They pulled the boat where it could not be seen from the river.  The girl led them on a path by the waterside. Two girls sat in a low branch, singing.  and came to him . Bekter thought her  touch would be cold  but it was warm and alive. There was a fire with fish roasting.  She brought it to Bekter who began to eat.

The tall one sat with Hawkmoon.. She turned to the warrior and held his hand. Her thoughts came to him:

We know of your quest …

Can you help?

Across worlds, wherever water flows we move and have our being. We live while the river lives. We die when it dies. We do not go on beyond death. My sisters will tend to your friend.  His wife bathes at the falls near the great city. She is with child.”

Bekter’s foot was  covered in ointment and wrapped  in silk. He found he could stand without pain. They finished eating and prepared to leave. The one who tended to his foot held onto his hand, gazing at Bekter with limpid green eyes.

“She seems very friendly, Hawkmoon.. Maybe we could stay a while longer”

Hawkmoon  gathered the weapons.“ Get in the boat “

Downriver Hawkmoon told him about Shula  . Bekter was silent.

“How does she know?”

“They are spirits of water, what one knows, they all know.

“I wanted to stay with her. It was like a spell had come over me.”

“It wears off once you are away from them”

“Did you learn anything else?”

“I asked for help at the Gorge. We can stay on the river  at night. They will   keep the boat away from trouble. ”

As the boat surged downriver Bekter sat, thinking of his wife.

An hour after darkness the twins  rose  over the horizon. By their luminance they floated until late in the night. Challon Gorge was two  days. At the wolf dawn they pulled in to sleep and prepare for the rapids .Flooding upriver had lifted the water to the point where most of the rocks were   covered. The passage would be  even more dangerous.... They were eating when  horsemen rode to the opposite bank.  Hawkmoon studied them through Bekter’s spyglass.

Reiver cavalry was a new development. The riders were smaller than usual. Hawkmoon watched, judging how they handled their mounts…   He wondered if rumours of trade  between the Khanate and the Reivers might be true. If so their problems had become considerably worse.

The current sped up as the river narrowed for  passage of the Gorge.. They were hauling on the oars to get to the far side when a second troop came to the opposite side. In the distance a dull rumbling could be heard. The Reiver‘s carried no  bows but they wouldn’t need them. Nothing survived the Gorge.  Trees  entered as giants to emerge as kindling. The cavalry stopped at a wall of Granite. Some of the troopers  waved farewell; others gave an ironic cheer..

The river took a turn as it poured through a gap. Hawkmoon peered through the mist, deafened by the roar. The Gorge narrowed further.  They bobbed on the rising current. The danger of submerged rocks was gone; nothing would stand in the flood. Hawkmoon  shouted at Bekter who sat in the back, vomiting. The roar made it impossible to be heard. Out of his misery  Bekter saw Hawkmoon brandishing the pole and pointing at the wall.

He was barely in time to meet the rock and push as the boat swung for the side. They shot through on an arching curve of water. The boat went under but came back with  natural buoyancy. Light faded between granite walls. The food was  gone. Except for his crossbow and Hawkmoon’s axe, so were the weapons. Bekter checked to see  the  powder bags secure in the bows. It became quiet. Sound faded. They floated on calm water.