Silvermay (6 page)

‘Why's that? Why do they always have two?'

That sad, knowing smile was back on his face. I couldn't have been more than ten years old when we had this talk but he trusted me to understand. ‘If you have one servant who is more powerful than you, especially one who cares only for himself, he might kill you and take all you have as his own. But if you have two, and they are forever suspicious of one another, then a clever lord can play one against the other, so that each obeys in order to stop his companion gaining an advantage.'

I had seen the sense in this, but until that day when Delit Sweetmead almost choked to death, I had never
seen the ruthless balance of Wyrdborn power with my own eyes.

The loading of the wagons began. I stood watching with the rest of the village until the sight made me too angry to stay any longer. As I reached our door, I glanced down the lane and saw something that didn't just make me angry, it scared me more than anything I had ever seen. The Wyrdborn who'd come so close to killing Delit Sweetmead was prowling among the houses. And he'd found Hespa.

Even from this distance I could hear her giggling at the things he said. The easy stance of her lithe figure showed she was charmed by him or by his magic, at least. That was something else I'd learnt from stories about the Wyrdborn. They weren't content to win a girl's heart like commonfolk. They used enchantments to create instant infatuation.

‘What is it, Silvermay, what have you seen?' called Birdie, coming quickly to the door. Her face went white in an instant.

‘We can't let him take her,' I whispered.

‘And he won't,' she said, setting off towards Hespa and the Wyrdborn.

She hadn't managed three steps of this brave march before a hand took tight hold of her shoulder. We both turned to see Tamlyn had come out through the doorway.

‘Stay here, Birdie,' he said, easing his grip. ‘And you, too, Silvermay.'

Then he was gone so quickly there was no time to argue, no time to warn him, although he surely knew how dangerous the Wyrdborn could be. That made his action even more foolhardy. He advanced on the pair with long, determined strides, and this only doubled my fear because he looked so much like a brother come to rescue his sister, or, worse still, a jealous lover who wanted to chase off a rival. It was exactly the kind of confrontation the Wyrdborn relished.

Before Birdie could stop me, I went closer. She hissed and seethed but I wouldn't turn around and so she followed me. My head-start meant I had almost reached the three figures at the end of the lane before she caught me. There, with a clear view of their faces and our ears close enough to hear, we stopped and waited and hoped.

To my surprise, Hespa was no longer smiling and playing the girlish flirt. In fact, she was frowning unhappily under the Wyrdborn's heavy gaze, and when he reached out to touch her elbow she flinched in revulsion.

‘My lord, Hespa is happy living here with her family, who would miss her terribly if you take her away,' said Tamlyn in a sonorous voice that sounded reasonable rather than challenging. ‘She's better off here instead of going with you to the religo's castle.'

Spoken gently or not, this was defiance of the Wyrdborn. Tamlyn would pay a terrible price. Yet I could see the man's face as clearly as Hespa's and there was none of the rage I expected. He looked more confused than angry.

‘But think of the luxuries I offer you, girl. And you won't starve through the winter, either.'

‘Hespa wants to stay here,' Tamlyn repeated.

The Wyrdborn rounded on him. ‘Quiet, you, or I'll have the tongue out of your mouth,' and he snatched a dagger from his belt as though he would do it anyway, out of spite.

There was no step backward as anyone else would have done. No sign of fear. Tamlyn held the man's gaze, remaining silent, as commanded, but unmoved by the vicious threat.

The Wyrdborn calmed a little, much to my own relief. ‘I'll ask you again, girl, and this time you must answer for yourself.'

He paused and, though magic works silently and without any visible signs, I could sense the enchantment he pressed on her. Her eyes brightened, there was a hint of the silly smile I'd glimpsed earlier.

‘Will you come with me when the wagons are ready?' he asked.

Hespa's future lay in a single word. I could barely watch. Then, as quickly as the signs had appeared, they vanished. Hespa's face hardened and she began to tremble. ‘No, sir. I want to stay here.'

That wasn't the end of it, surely. A man like him didn't let others decide. If a girl refused him, he could simply scoop her onto his horse and ride off. But this didn't happen, either. Instead, Tamlyn risked speaking again.

‘The wagons are loaded, my lord. They are waiting for you. Shall I help you onto your horse?'

The man's chestnut mare appeared behind him, as though it had been summoned by magic. Tamlyn cupped his hands and, accepting the Wyrdborn's muddy boot onto his palms, boosted him into the saddle. He bowed submissively and was repaid with a savage kick that left him sprawled in the mud. Then the grey-vested Wyrdborn rode away to join Religo Norbett, leaving Tamlyn no more than bruised and muddy on the ground and my dear friend Hespa free to help him up.

O
nce Religo Norbett and his wagons had disappeared along the road, Hespa had little memory of her encounter with the Wyrdborn. All that remained was a deep sense of dread that left her weeping and barely able to stand. Birdie and I helped her home, and I stayed to comfort my friend. By evening, her fear had lifted and, better still, our argument was behind us. No one was happier about that than me.

Still, I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened back there in the lane. It was as though Tamlyn had simply talked the vile man out of stealing Hespa away. How had he done it? Whatever skill he'd used, it had taken great courage to approach a Wyrdborn the way he did. Part of me wished the entire village had
been there to see it, but, for Hespa's sake, Birdie and I would never say a word.

That didn't mean the name ‘Piet' stayed long from our lips when Hespa and I met the next day. As ever, I was nursing my little Smiler after his morning feed.

‘You were right,' I admitted with a sheepish grin. ‘I had all sorts of silly dreams about him.'

‘Me, too,' she said. ‘But now that he's been here nearly three weeks, I don't feel the same. He never looks at anyone but Nerigold and you, so there's not much point.'

‘And he only looks at me when I have this one in my arms,' I said, holding up the baby. ‘My heart is behaving itself, too,' I added. ‘It was just his good looks that attracted me and I'm past that now, same as you. He'll take Nerigold away down the road sooner or later, and in a week, or a month, I'll have forgotten all about him. The sooner the better, really.'

How much of that was true? I didn't want to examine it too deeply, preferring to laugh about the infatuation that had driven Hespa and me apart.

I played with the bundle in my arms. ‘When are you going to smile for me?' I asked him. ‘My cheeks are aching from showing you how.'

No baby can really understand what is said to him,
everyone knows that. But this didn't stop Hespa's cry of delight when Lucien's round face immediately broke into the most wonderful smile.

‘He heard you, he heard you,' she laughed.

I was too astonished to correct her. We hurried inside and gave Lucien to his mother, hoping he would melt her heart with the same gorgeous bow of his lips.

‘You said I was wasting my time, that it would be months,' I reminded Birdie.

She humphed loudly. ‘It was wind. You're not the first to mistake a burp for a smile.'

But Smiler seemed to enjoy his new skill. With his mother there to see, he produced another beautiful grin. Nerigold burst into tears. If I hadn't felt so triumphant over my mother, I would have done the same.

Birdie made a face that combined surprise with a rare concession that she'd been wrong. She inspected Lucien for a few moments then walked away saying, ‘He's a big lump for only four weeks.'

 

I'd told Hespa that Tamlyn meant nothing to me. Early the next morning I had a chance to prove it to myself when Birdie dropped a basket into my arms.

‘Mushrooms — those big ones from the edge of the wood are the best,' she said brusquely, but she was smiling, too. She knew it was my favourite chore.

I loved the misty silence among the trees before others came to disturb my solitude, so I was disappointed to see another figure some way off, gathering firewood. My harvesting took me closer and I saw it was Tamlyn, and my disappointment vanished a little too quickly. It wouldn't matter if I watched him for a while, I decided. He wouldn't even know I was there.

He worked hard, much harder than I was doing looking for mushrooms, until a large bird flew low over his head and settled on a fallen log only ten paces from where he'd laid his bundle. It was a hawk, I was sure of it, which surprised me because hawks didn't usually enter the woods. Their wide wings and breathtaking speed were better suited to fields and plains.

With its powerful wings folded away, the bird eyed Tamlyn for a few moments, before filling the forest with a single sharp cry. Tamlyn stopped adding branches to his pile and stared at it, seeming as puzzled as I was. Slowly, so that the bird didn't fly off in fright, he took off his vest and wrapped it around his left arm. When this was done, he called softly to the bird, holding up his swathed forearm. To my open-mouthed astonishment, the hawk flapped the short distance to drop its talons onto this makeshift perch.

There, it bobbed its head up and down and from side to side, its beak working open and closed like shears.
I couldn't hear anything, and my knowledge of hawks told me they weren't singers, but that's exactly what it seemed to be doing.

Tamlyn waited, solemn-faced, until this strange performance was over. Then, moving his right hand almost faster than my eye could follow, he grabbed the hawk by its neck and used his freed hand to wrench its head savagely sideways. The hawk fluttered pathetically for a moment or two once he'd let it fall to the ground, but there was no doubt it was dead.

I gasped in outrage. He turned and spotted me among the trees. ‘Silvermay!' he called in surprise.

I tramped through the underbrush towards him. ‘How could you do such a thing!' I shouted. ‘My father calls them the lords of the sky. They're magnificent birds — just look at the one you've killed!'

I'd reached him by now and seeing the poor creature so close, its outstretched wings that would never fly again, only doubled my fury. ‘A bird as tame as that can be useful, too. Father could have trained it to hunt rabbits in the winter. After that robbing lord carried off so much of our grain, we could do with some extra food.'

It was more than the senseless killing that disgusted me; it was the brutal way he'd dispatched the bird. I'd never thought someone as gentle and heroic as Tamlyn could do such a thing.

‘I'm sorry you had to witness it, Silvermay,' he said unhappily.

‘What kind of apology is that?' I railed at him. ‘I don't hear any regret that you wrung the bird's neck.'

‘It had to be done,' he said with the same sadness.

That made no sense to me at all, but he wouldn't answer any more of my angry questions. Instead, he lifted the bundle of firewood onto his back and headed towards the village.

 

I was too upset to follow him and, besides, Birdie wouldn't listen to any excuses if I returned with so few mushrooms. Picking enough to fill the basket took time and let my temper cool, which was no bad thing considering the news that awaited me when I finally returned.

‘They're leaving,' Birdie told me as I dumped the mushrooms onto the table.

All thoughts of Tamlyn's cruelty vanished. ‘No, it's too soon,' I said in a rush. Sometimes, what you truly feel comes only when you're caught by surprise.

‘Yes, Nerigold is still too weak to travel,' said Birdie, assuming that was what I'd meant. ‘Now come with me, Silvermay. I have something to tell you.'

My mother tugged me by the elbow until we were outdoors and well down the lane. There she stopped,
looked directly into my face and said, ‘You must go with them, to help Nerigold with the baby.'

‘No!' It felt like the word had been torn from my throat. I swallowed hard, as though this would fill the void, but my desperation was just as strong. ‘No, Mother, don't make me do this.'

I couldn't tell her that my reasons had nothing to do with Nerigold and my little Smiler. Everything I'd told Hespa was a delusion. My heart hadn't given Tamlyn up at all, and now my own mother wanted to extend the torment.

‘Don't make me do this,' I begged a second time, and already tears were streaming down my cheeks.

Birdie folded me into her arms and said into my ear, ‘I know why you're so reluctant, Silvermay. You still think yourself in love. Well, this is your chance to show how strong that love is. Go with them, so the ones he loves will live to make him happy.'

Her words cut my heart in two. Before I could piece it together again, Tamlyn appeared with his horse.
So quickly
, I thought. Would I even have a minute to make up my mind?

Birdie called to him and, when he joined us, wasted no time. ‘Silvermay must go with you.'

‘No, it wouldn't be right,' he said immediately.

He seemed to surprise himself with his blunt reply. Looking at me, his eyes softened. If that wasn't enough to confuse me, he touched my arm as he'd done in this very spot when we'd met under the stars. I wasn't the only one confused, I realised.

‘I mean … you … you would be a great help, Silvermay,' he stammered, ‘of course you would, but I can't allow it.'

‘She'll be more than a help,' said Birdie. ‘With Silvermay, mother and child will survive till you get to where you're going. Without her, you might lose them both.'

My father must have seen Tamlyn leading his horse through the village because he came hurrying along the lane now, too.

‘You're leaving?' he said. When he heard what we were discussing, he agreed with Birdie. ‘Yes, Silvermay must go with you.'

Tamlyn shook his head. ‘There's too much I haven't told you. Hard men are looking for Nerigold and me. You wouldn't send your daughter with us if you knew the danger.' With a brief glance to be sure others weren't close enough to hear, he went on, ‘You've already guessed that we were fleeing when we arrived in Haywode.'

This brought cautious nods from us all.

‘From disapproving parents, we thought,' said my father.

‘I wish it was no more than that,' said Tamlyn. ‘There are powerful forces in Vonne that want us captured. It's better that you don't know why. I was hoping to make it to the coast before the search for us widened, but when we reached here …' He shrugged his shoulders; there was no need to explain. ‘You've been very good to us, you especially, Birdie. And, Silvermay, you're like a second mother to Lucien. I wish we could stay here forever, honestly I do, but this morning in the forest I felt the first chill of an autumn breeze. It brought me to my senses. We have to move on before it's too cold to travel.'

He carefully avoided my eyes when he said this. There had been no cold breeze in the forest this morning. Still, I stayed silent as my father asked, ‘Where will you go?'

‘I'm not sure. Whatever happens, I'll find some refuge for us, but it's vital that you don't know what I have in mind. So you see, even I don't know what will become of us. You can't send your daughter off to face the same fate.'

‘You're an honest man. We've never doubted that. It's good of you to tell us.' Birdie turned to me. ‘Silvermay, help Nerigold get ready and say goodbye to your little Smiler. You're staying here with us, after all.'

I didn't move. Since my mother had marched me out of the house, I'd fought against her demands, and now that she'd turned them round completely, I was fighting them again.

‘You won't look for another village, will you?' I asked Tamlyn. ‘Because they'll find you, just as they'd find you here.'

‘I can't tell you, Silvermay.'

‘Winter is coming and you'll spend long hours in the open.'

This time Tamlyn made no reply. Perhaps he already knew what was in my mind. Perhaps he could see the same image that taunted me: Nerigold shivering from long days without food. She was weak. On the road, she would need more help than ever. Before I quite knew what I was doing, I said, ‘I'm coming with you.'

Tamlyn didn't dismiss me so bluntly this time. ‘You're a brave girl, Silvermay. I've seen that in you since the first day, and I know how much you love Nerigold and Lucien.'

Did he also know that I loved him
, I asked myself.

‘But you must understand the danger,' he went on. ‘If we're captured, it's only the three of us they want. They might let you return to Haywode, but they might just as easily kill you.'

‘I've already thought of that,' I told him recklessly,
‘but what my mother said is still true. Without me, you might lose them both and I can't let that happen.'

My parents frowned with worry, but I saw pride in their faces, too. Birdie would have done the same thing when she was sixteen.

So many emotions passed across Tamlyn's face, until finally he said, ‘Come with us, then, as far as you dare and I'll be grateful for every mile.'

With the decision made, he was more anxious than ever to leave. He turned to my parents. ‘Before much longer, men will come looking for us. You must tell them everything you know, everything that's happened since we arrived, that Nerigold was sick and you helped us out of kindness and …' He'd been speaking in a rush, but suddenly he stopped and repeated his last word. ‘Kindness.' For some reason, the word struck him as odd. ‘Actually, no,' he said slowly, as though his thoughts were knitting together as he spoke. ‘When they come, have that innkeeper talk to them. He disliked us from the first, and they will feel a kindred spirit in his mean heart. Have him point out the direction we take. Hold nothing back. If they sense any deception at all, they'll destroy the entire village.'

 

The horse was laden with as much food as Birdie could find space for. Then she unfolded a small woollen blanket she had brought back from the mountains of Nan Tocha
and showed it to Nerigold. ‘This is for Lucien, to keep him warm on cold winter nights.'

My father offered gifts of his own: a bow and a quiver of arrows. ‘For you, Silvermay.' As he hooked them over the saddle, he turned briefly to Tamlyn. ‘She knows how to use them, too.'

‘So I've heard,' Tamlyn replied, with a wicked glance in my direction.

I blushed. Had he known I was exaggerating when I'd boasted of my skill?

The bow was no ordinary weapon. Most bows were longer than I was tall, but this one barely reached my waist if I put one tip on the ground. My father had brought it back from Vonne, where he'd traded it for one of his hawks. ‘It's from another land,' he told everyone in Haywode who cared to inspect it. ‘See the bone laid between the wood. Very strong for its size.'