‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ Farnor said, recogniz-ing the mistake even as he made it.
Marna seized it. ‘Talk about what?’ she demanded.
‘Nothing!’ Farnor snapped as loudly as he dared. Marna took his arm and shook it. ‘I’ll tell you later,’ he surrendered, and Marna released him grudgingly.
The group continued in silence for some time until the ferns petered out, and with them even such small signs as the creature had left. And there were other problems.
The path they had been following had taken them away from the castle, but they were almost level with it. Ahead the valley floor rose gradually, and the tree cover became thicker.
Without any command they stopped. To continue would be to go beyond the castle. They had reached the boundary of their territory and, though no obstacle opposed them, only some grim necessity would make them go further.
Gryss swore under his breath. He knew that for every reason he could put forward for continuing, two would be raised for turning back and trying some other method of catching the creature. Even night watches. As leader he would have to follow.
‘This is far enough,’ he said, voicing the silent con-sensus. ‘It seems as if it’s hiding in the woods up there. It could be anywhere. We’ll have to wait for it to come to us, after all.’
Farnor looked around, registering only faintly the unspoken unwillingness to travel beyond this unmarked boundary. Having been drawn past his own limits, he saw nothing in this place to restrain him. On either side of the valley the high peaks were closing in, but they were not yet oppressive. Ahead lay rising undulations of easy mountain turf no different from those parts of the valley that he knew. And the trees too were no different. Swaying and whispering gently. Almost as if they were calling out to him.
To the left, some way away and much higher than the motionless group, was the castle, oddly dominant now in spite of the mountains behind it.
‘We might see something from up there,’ Farnor offered, pointing towards it.
Gryss looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Maybe,’ he said. He cast a glance at the others, watching him uneasily after Farnor’s suggestion. ‘But it’ll be too late to be going much further even if we do.’ He spoke to the watchers. ‘You head back. Start making arrangements for a round-up, and schooling yourselves to the idea of night watches. I’ll go to the castle with Garren and these two.’ He nodded at Farnor and Marna. ‘Perhaps we can see something from there.’
There was no dispute and the group divided.
As he trudged slowly up the long slope to the castle, Farnor found himself next to Gryss while Garren and Marna walked ahead.
‘What happened?’ Gryss asked bluntly.
‘What do you mean?’ Farnor tried.
‘What happened when you passed out?’
Farnor shrugged his shoulders and repeated his earlier explanation.
‘You were neither winded nor stunned, young Far-nor,’ Gryss declared. ‘And even if I didn’t have the wits to see that, I’ve known you since before you were born and I certainly know when you’re lying. Now what happened?’
‘I don’t know,’ Farnor said, after hesitating as long as he dared and taking refuge in a version of the truth. ‘I just remember feeling light-headed. As if I was far away but here at the same time. And then I was waking up with you all round me.’
Gryss looked at him narrowly but did not press his interrogation. Instead, he admitted his ignorance.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘you’re not cursed with the falling sickness, nor are any of your family. And you’re too strong to be overcome by the sun and a little walking.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘And I’d swear you were dreaming. It was almost as if you were awake and just had your eyes closed.’
‘I wasn’t pretending!’ Farnor exclaimed, heatedly.
Gryss was taken aback at this response. ‘I know,’ he said both reassuringly and apologetically. ‘But I’ve never seen anything like it before. Can’t you remember anything?’
Farnor suddenly wanted to spill out the strange contact he had had with the creature they were hunting, but even as the thought formed he rejected the idea. Besides, as time had passed, the incident had become less vivid in his mind. Perhaps indeed he had only been dreaming.
‘No,’ he replied.
Gryss nodded resignedly and seemed to accept this answer as final, though Farnor sensed that in due course the incident would be returned to again. He knew Gryss’s persistence and patience of old. For the nonce, however, they walked on in companionable silence until they reached the top of the slope. Garren was sitting on a rocky outcrop waiting for them while Marna was wandering over towards the castle.
‘Go on,’ Gryss said to Farnor with a nod in her direc-tion. ‘Have a look while you’re here. It’s an interesting place and I doubt you’ll get much call to come up here in the normal course of events. Your father and I will see if we can spot our predator on its prowl.’
Farnor needed no urging and strode after Marna. Watching him, Gryss turned to Garren and spoke quietly.
‘Keep an eye on him,’ he said. ‘I’m not quite sure what happened when he fell over, and he seems to be deliberately keeping something from me.’
Concern then irritation crossed Garren’s face and he made as if to call after his son, but Gryss took his arm and directed his gaze back to the valley. ‘No, Garren,’ he said. ‘Leave him. He’s no child any more. He can’t be forced to do anything he doesn’t want to do, at least not without hurting both of you. If he’s choosing not to tell us something, then we’ll have to trust his judgement. But you just watch him. If he looks like wanting to talk, you look as if you want to listen. Man to man. A friend rather than a father.’
Garren looked unconvinced. ‘He’s child enough still,’ he said stiffly. ‘If he’s keeping something from you I can get it out of him.’
‘No,’ Gryss insisted. ‘Trust me in this, even if you can’t trust him. You’re too close to him to see what he’s become. He’s a good son, but you’ll find you’re dealing with someone near your equal if you try to lord it over him too much now. Besides, it may not be that impor-tant.’
Garren grimaced. ‘Well, what’s all the fuss about then?’ he said testily. ‘You suddenly telling me how to bring up my own boy.’ Then, almost immediately repenting his manner, he raised an apologetic hand. ‘I’m sorry, that was rude of me,’ he said. ‘I think seeing him go down like that must have upset me more than I thought.’ The look of concern returned. ‘He’s not ill, is he?’
Gryss sat down on the rock next to the farmer. ‘No,’ he said, wilfully using his healer’s authority. ‘I’m sure he isn’t…’
There was an implication in his voice. Garren waited, then voiced it himself.
‘But?’
Doubt came into the old man’s eyes. ‘There’s a strangeness in the air, Garren,’ he said. ‘I’ve sensed it ever since Farnor brought the news back about the sheep. And it seems to have been growing worse as the day’s passed.’
Garren frowned, unsettled by this down-to-earth elder talking almost like Yonas the Teller. ‘What do you mean – strangeness?’ he asked.
Gryss gesticulated vaguely. ‘There’s the extent of the damage that’s been done to the sheep for one thing,’ he said. ‘I’ve never seen anything quite so bad before. And the dogs. They’ve scented something they really don’t want to meet.’
‘They’re not stupid,’ Garren said. ‘They can probably tell better than we can that it’s more than one dog and that they’re wild to boot. A chase and a kill is one thing. Risking getting hurt is another.’
Gryss shook his head. ‘That would make them nerv-ous, cautious. But you’ve been watching them. They grew quieter and quieter as we moved on, and when they smelled that fur…’ He turned to Garren, his eyes piercing underneath his scruffy hair. ‘They were really frightened. Half a chance and they’d have been back down the valley at the run.’
Under the old man’s gaze, Garren could not dis-agree.
‘And it’s not a pack, it’s one animal,’ Gryss added definitively as he turned back to look out over the valley.
Garren stared at him in surprise. ‘You’re very cer-tain all of a sudden,’ he said.