Authors: Edith Pattou
Collun quickly found his teine stone inside his pack. He hoped to spark a fire so they might see where they
were, but nothing in the damp cave was dry enough to provide kindling.
"Help me wake the Ellyl," said Brie. "We cannot stay here. Bricriu and his men may return at any time."
They sprinkled water from a skin bag onto the Ellyl's face. Brie slapped his wrists, and gradually Silien returned to consciousness. He was groggy and disoriented. It took some time before he was able to walk. They slowly made their way out of the dungeon.
"I would make light to guide us," the Ellyl said, his voice fuzzy, "but I do not have the strength. Lord Bricriu must have used the herb meliot to drug us, and meliot makes me ill, too ill to make a light. I will try again later." Then he dropped to a crouching position. They could hear a rumbling sound from Fara's throat. It reminded Collun of the purr of a large cat. They remained quiet until the rumbling stopped and Silien rose shakily to his feet.
"Fara tells me the dungeon ends at the beginning of a labyrinth. The other way leads back up into Bricriu's dun."
"What kind of labyrinth?" asked Collun.
"It is Ellyl. We must decide quickly," said Silien. "Fara says there are two morgs guarding the entrance to the dun."
"I don't see that we have a choice," came Brie's voice through the darkness. "Even if we could get past those morgs, if we try to escape through Bricriu's dun, we will almost certainly be captured."
There came the dull banging sound of a door opening
and then shutting. It was followed by the hollow echo of footsteps approaching.
"Is it to be the labyrinth?" whispered Silien.
"Yes," Collun whispered back, filled with misgivings.
They moved forward as quickly and quietly as they could in the darkness, feeling their way along the damp, cool rock of the tunnel walls. They passed a number of doorways; more cells, Collun guessed.
"The labyrinth begins up ahead," whispered Silien.
"You said it is Ellyl?" Talisen said softly.
"Yes. Fara knew it at once. I have heard of it but know little beyond this..." The companions drew closer to hear Silien's hushed words as they walked. "It is called Misteir Dearthair and was fashioned long ago by two Ellyl brothers. These brothers both wished to wed the same maiden, who, it was said, loved them equally and could not make the choice between them. She was fond of puzzles, so the brothers came up with the idea of a labyrinth with two ways out. One would lead to the first brother and one to the second. Whichever way she took would lead to the Ellyl she would marry. It took one year to build, so intricate was its design." Silien paused, out of breath.
"The maiden never found the way out. They believe she fell and injured herself deep within the twists and turnings of the labyrinth. She was dead before they could find her. After that the labyrinth was sealed. It was forbidden to enter it." Silien stopped speaking.
"No doubt Bricriu purposely built his dun over it," Brie mused.
"Handy for constructing a dungeon," added Talisen, "as well as a convenient graveyard." He laughed wryly. "Though hopefully not for us."
"I don't like it," Collun said, reverting to his earlier feelings of misgiving. "If the Ellyl maiden could not find her way out, how can we ever hope to?"
"It begins here," said Silien.
Suddenly they heard the sound of muffled shouts and doors banging. The morgs had discovered their escape.
They plunged forward into the labyrinth. They made several turnings, still feeling the way along the walls with their fingers and choosing at random the path to take.
They lapsed into silence. Collun found it eerie, walking without sight. He remembered old Neggan, the blind weaver back in Inkberrow. Collun had never thought before about what it must be like, living in darkness as she did. He understood now why she wove elaborate stories into her cloth. They must have brought some color and light into her dark world, even if she could not see them.
"There was a riddle," Silien finally broke the silence, his voice a faint whisper. "It was given to the maiden to help her find her way out. It provided a clue to the puzzle. I never learned the riddle, nor its answer..." His voice trailed away, then came again, softly, "Fara remembers only the first line of it. 'I go naked in winter yet feel no chill.' That is all."
"A riddle, eh?" said Talisen, his voice eager. "Well, then, I should be able to get us through this labyrinth in no time at all. 'I go naked in winter...' Just give me a few moments." He began muttering to himself. The rest of them lapsed again into silence.
After what seemed an eternity of groping in the dark, of doubling back from dead ends and starting over,
Silien gave a soft sigh and said, "I can go no farther." He slipped to the ground where he stood and was immediately asleep.
"We will have to carry him," said Collun. He and Talisen hoisted Silien up, draping one of the Ellyl's arms around Collun's neck, the other around Talisen's. Brie moved into the lead with Fara at her side.
As he walked, Collun thought about the riddle fragment. He considered asking Brie's opinion, but he hesitated. The strain was still there between them. He had tried many times to identify its cause, but he could not. Nor could he bring himself to ask her.
After several hours of carrying Silien, Collun and Talisen began to tire. They dragged on for some time but finally had to rest. They laid the Ellyl gently on the tunnel floor. Talisen went a short distance away to concentrate on the riddle. Collun could hear Brie breathing nearby. He took a step toward her, then stopped.
"Brie?" Collun said tentatively.
"Yes?" Her voice was cold. Collun could hear Fara's purr and guessed that Brie was stroking the animal's back.
"Why do you journey with us?" Collun blurted out.
"In our present circumstances it would seem I have little choice," Brie responded dryly.
"But why did you stay with us after we got to Temair?"
Brie didn't answer for a moment. "Did you want me to leave you then?"
"No!" Collun exclaimed. "That is, we have, uh, come to rely on your bow."
"I see." He could hear her move away from him.
Collun reached out to stop her, but then let his arm fall back to his side. He felt a numbness inside him, and for some reason the words in Goban's letter came back to him.
Collun felt his way back to the Ellyl. "Silien?"
"Yes." He was awake.
"How do you feel?" Collun queried.
"A little better," the Ellyl replied huskily. And suddenly he began to sing. At first his voice was so soft that Collun did not even recognize it as singing. It was like the time in the Forest of Eld. The song had no rhyme, it told no story, it did not even have recognizable wordsâyet somehow Collun knew it was a song. It painted pictures of fire and smoke behind his eyes, and when it was done, the darkness was gone. A soft pink light glowed in Silien's hand. He held it before him so they could see the place where they stood.
It was a tunnel carved of rock, just higher than the tallest of them. They stood at a turning. There was a drawing on the wall just below eye level.
As they walked forward they found more drawings. They were spaced at irregular intervals, and at each turning there was a picture. The designs depicted many different thingsâa ring-tailed mouse, a blade of grass glistening with moisture, a salmon leaping high above a stream. Each one was exquisite. The spray of periwinkle next to Collun was so lifelike he felt he could reach over and pluck it.
"Ellyl drawings," said Silien.
"They are beautiful," replied Talisen.
"I wonder if they were drawn for decoration only," said Brie.
"You mean you think they may be clues, like the riddle?" queried Talisen. "By Amergin, the answer is on the tip of my tongue! I have heard it before, I am sure. 'I go naked in winter...' Are you sure Fara can remember no more of it, Silien?"
"I am sure." The Ellyl's voice was hollow with fatigue. "Fara has no patience for riddling. Let us move ahead. Perhaps the pictures will tell us more." Silien held up the light in his hand and they walked on. They came to several turnings and randomly chose the way to go.
"'In winter...'" Talisen was still muttering irritably to himself. "I would swear I know this riddle. I heard it once in a song." He slid his harp around again and began to finger the strings. "I can even picture the face of the bard who sang it to me. He was very old, and his voice had more cracks than the plates Farmer Whicklow used to throw at me."
They passed the painting of a spindly legged lamb, then a cluster of ripe huckleberries. Talisen gave a sigh and for a moment stopped playing. "I cannot concentrate for all the clamor my stomach is making. By chance, does anyone have food with them?" No one replied. "I thought not," he responded gloomily.
They came to another turning and paused. Collun absently ran his finger around the edge of the silver-green leaf etched onto the stone beside him. His eyes fell on a small pile of what he thought were rocks. But when he peered more closely at them, he gasped. It was a pile of bones.
He tried without success to stifle the horrible, unbidden thought that flooded his mind. Ever since he had woken in the darkness of the dungeon, he wondered if
Nessa had been there, too. And what if, like them, she had escaped into the labyrinth and gotten lost in the pitch-black twistings and turnings? He knelt down by the small pile.
"Those have lain here a long, long time," came Brie's voice from over Collun's shoulder. "Too long."
"Are you sure?" Collun stared down at the grisly heap.
"Yes. If they were your sister's, they would still have some flesh on them," Brie said, her voice matter-of-fact and still distant. She moved away.
"Yet they are too new to be those of the Ellyl maiden for whom the labyrinth was built," said Silien, holding the light over the bones. "Some other victim of Lord Bricriu's treachery, perhaps."
Suddenly Talisen's random playing took on form and he let out a triumphant laugh. "I have found it," he said, his voice loud with excitement. "Listen. It is not exactly the same, but it is close enough.
"'
In spring I am gay,
in handsome array.
In summer more clothing I wear.
When colder it grows,
I fling off my clothes,
And in winter quite naked appear.'
"There," Talisen finished with a flourish. "Can you guess the answer? It is simple, really."
There was a short silence.
"A tree, of course," Talisen cried out impatiently.
"But what does it mean? Could the labyrinth be fashioned in the manner of the roots of a tree?" asked Brie.
Collun had been listening with half an ear, his eyes still fastened on the bones. But then something stirred in his memory. The picture at the turning. It had been a leaf. A mulberry leaf. He stood and crossed to the design. He stared at it.
"Perhaps it points the way out," he said more to himself than the others.
"What?" asked Talisen.
"Where the leaf of a tree is, perhaps that is the turning we are to take."
There was a silence, and then Brie said thoughtfully, "And perhaps because there were two brothers, there are two kinds of leaves."
"This is a mulberry," said Collun. "I remember seeing leaves of hawthorn, ash, and rowan earlier."
"There may be dozens of kinds of trees. How do we narrow it to the two we seek?" queried Talisen.
"Perhaps it lies in the riddle," Collun suggested.
"I don't see how..."
"Nor do I," confessed Collun.
"Well then, let us just choose one at random," said Talisen. "Although..." He paused. "You realize, don't you, that while one leaf may indeed lead us to freedom, another may lead us right back to Bricriu..."
There was another silence. Collun's eyes strayed to the pile of bones, and he shivered slightly.
The light in Silien's hand had grown dimmer, and they all noticed that his limbs were trembling with fatigue.
"What leaf is this?" asked Brie. Her voice was overly loud and echoed in the passageway.
"Mulberry," answered Collun.
"Then let us try mulberry," said Brie.
They began to move down the passage marked by the mulberry leaf, but Collun hesitated, reluctant to follow. "'In spring I am gay...,'" he murmured under his breath." 'In spring' ... spring ... winter..."
"Collun?" Talisen called back to him.
"I am coming," Collun said. He moved forward to join them. "What of this: The riddle names spring and winter. Perhaps the two trees we seek are ones that flourish in those two seasons..." He trailed off. Spoken out loud, his reasoning sounded unimpressive.
But Brie immediately spoke up. "It is well thought. Come, let us look for spring and winter trees."
Silien's light had grown dangerously low by the time they had narrowed their search. They chose the silver fir for the winter tree, as it was the only evergreen they found, and the hawthorn because of its vibrant spring blossoms.
"And now," wondered Talisen, "which of these lovely trees do you suppose leads to freedom and which to Bricriu's dungeon?"
Nobody spoke.
"Let us choose the fir. 'Twas my mother's birth tree," said Collun abruptly.
And so they took the turning with the silver fir markings. As they continued on, they passed several turnings that bore the design of a hawthorn leaf, but they went straight on. At first, the tunnels kept slanting downward, and Collun began to fear they had chosen wrong. Silien was growing weaker and weaker. He could not muster strength even to talk. All the energy he had was focused on the dwindling ball of light glowing in his palm. If
the Ellyl's light was to go out, thought Collun, they would be lost. They were all exhausted, hungry, and more than anything else, thirsty. They had finished the water in their skin bags some time ago.
Finally the way began to slant upward, and they felt a glimmer of hope. But going up took more effort.
And then, without warning, Silien's light faded. He had stopped for a moment and was leaning up against a wall, staring blankly down at his hand. The light guttered, like a candle, and then went out, plunging them into total darkness.