She nodded.
Waving the scepter in a circle around them, he wrapped his arm around Valyrie and cast his spell. His feet lifted off the ground. Ascending, he stared at the majestic beauty of the valley, the river and its rapids flowing south, and the deer running between the trees. He reached the top and saw Marac with a scornful glare on his face. Oh, dear. I’m going to hear it now. Perhaps I should’ve stayed down there a while longer.
“The next time you decide to jump off a cliff,” Marac said, his arms folded, “I’d appreciate a little warning.”
“Sorry.” Laedron released Valyrie once they had landed. “It’s what sorcerers-”
“Don’t give me that ‘it’s what sorcerers do’ bit. You scared the hells out of me with that stunt.”
Brice stepped between them. “All things considered, he did save her from the fall.”
“Oh, don’t you start now.”
Laedron put his arms around both of them, herding them away from the edge. “Friends, don’t let this drive a wedge between us. Marac, I’m sorry, but I had little time to explain.”
Marac nodded forcefully. “I just don’t want to lose you again. I can’t.”
“You won’t.” Laedron smiled, then gestured at the horses. “Shall we?”
“Yes, but we’re not going back to that damned road.” Taking hold of the reins, Marac climbed onto his horse. “If the trees grow away from this cliff the whole way, we’d do better to follow it to the village.”
“Agreed.” Laedron helped Valyrie onto her horse, then mounted his. “And hopefully no more bandits.”
With the open ground between the cliff and the woods, Marac quickened his pace at the lead. The rapid beating of hooves and the valley’s rim took them all the way to the end of the depression, and in the distance, Laedron spotted palisade walls. Laslo. It must be.
6
Approaching the village, Laedron kept a sharp eye on his surroundings. The wooden spikes, the high walls, and the barricades, all of it was meant to bar entry to outsiders and all fashioned from the fresh-cut pines. Is that what I think it is? he thought, staring at the black substance coating the tips of the spears. Old blood, the blood of dozens of battles. Who would charge against layers of spikes? Surely brigands are not that foolish. The village seemed like an enclave of civilization placed exactly in the middle of nowhere.
When he reached the front, the gates were shut, and a man stood atop the wall, a bow in his left hand and an arrow nocked in his right. His tunic-half green and half white-was emblazoned with a black griffin. A soldier of Lasoron. Perhaps too far to call to the Almatheren?
“You don’t look like bandits,” the soldier said. “What business have you in Laslo?”
Laedron pulled on his reins, bringing his horse to a halt beneath the wall. “We wish to stay for a night. Nothing more.”
“And what will you do after that?”
“Move on. To the west,” Laedron said, imagining the cross expression the guard was probably giving him behind the plated helm.
“The road doesn’t lead west, boy. You plan to travel through open country to Kingsport or even as far as Paladum?”
“Not so far as that, no.”
“I suppose I should keep this gate closed to you, then.” The guard returned the arrow to his quiver. “Laslo has no need of madmen seeking to wander the wilderness. Why not get an early start and leave now?”
“Please, let us in, for the sun’s low in the sky. We have the coin to pay for all that we’ll need.” Laedron reached into his pocket and held up a sovereign.
The guard tapped the front of his helmet with one finger. “New coin? Could be helpful…”
“We won’t be any trouble. I swear it,” Laedron said.
“Very well, young man.” The soldier turned a crank, and the gate opened. “Tie your horses with the rest and meet me inside.”
Laedron urged his horse through the opening, and once his friends had passed the threshold, the guardsman closed the gate, then climbed down a ragged wooden ladder.
“I’m Sir Paldren, protector of this city.” The man extended his hand to Laedron once he had dismounted.
“Laedron Telpist of Sorbia.”
“Sorbia? You’re a long way off from home, aren’t you?”
“Indeed.”
“What would a Sorbian want in the deep woods of Lasoron?” Paldren removed his helmet, revealing a salt-and-pepper beard and green eyes.
If I’m untruthful, will he be able to tell? Laedron considered the size of the small village and the remoteness. Would it matter if I told him? It’s not as if he could call upon anyone who might mean us harm from way out here. “We’re venturing to the ruins of Myrdwyer.”
“And why would anyone want to go to those ancient grounds?”
“Answers.”
“I hope you’re good at holding conversation with stones and moss, my strange friend.” Paldren gestured for him to follow. “Little remains there beyond broken rubble and old memories, a testament to Uxidin arrogance.”
“Arrogance?”
“They tried to build a city to stand forever, but they succeeded only in decorating the forest with broken buildings and overgrown roads. The great empires that remain today learned a lesson lost on the Uxidin: place all of your hopes in tomorrow, and you’ll find that the problems of today don’t take care of themselves.”
Laedron eyed the knight with curiosity. “Have you been there? Have you seen the ruins?”
“Yes, and it’s a place I won’t soon visit again. Nothing to be gained there. Don’t look forward to getting much sleep, either, if you tread that place.”
“No?”
“Sounds in the night. Whispers and moans float on the evening breeze like pollen in the spring. Ancient sorrows that never had healed from aching hearts long since forgotten, I’d say.” Paldren pointed at a row of small buildings. “The village’s families live in those row houses. You’d do best to leave them alone, for they don’t abide outsiders.”
“Then, you’ve seen the highway? The path leading to Myrdwyer?” Laedron asked.
“What remains of the road lies west of here. An arrow’s shot away from the west wall, you’ll find the base of a column made of marble, and what remains of the pavers will take you to Myrdwyer.” The soldier continued across the center of town and gestured at the tallest building in the village. “That’s the lumber mill, the lifeblood of these people. Next to it is the guardhouse, and then the stores. Brenner, our only merchant, operates the inn and adjoining shop at the end of the line.”
“How long has it been since you’ve been to the Myrdwyer ruins?”
“Oh, I would say ten years or more, but it was still enough to keep me stirring some nights.”
“Thank you for allowing us to stay here,” Laedron said. “We should make arrangements with… Brenner, you said?”
“Indeed. You can tie your horses to the post outside.” Paldren stopped him before he could walk away. “Tell me, did you run into any bandits on your way here?”
“Yes, about a day’s travel south.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
Laedron thought about his response, wondering if the knight had any prejudice against sorcerers. “We lost them in the woods. After that, we followed the valley. Why do you ask?”
Paldren glanced back at a long covered wagon. “We’ll have a lumber shipment leaving in a few days for Nessadene, and the men from Kingsport are overdue. We’d hoped to send an escort with the wood, but I was wondering if we could do without.”
“I would recommend that you not send that cart unguarded. We didn’t encounter any other brigands, but that’s not to say that there are not more on the roads.”
“I appreciate it. The wood can wait, then. Carry on.” Paldren walked toward the wall.
Laedron called out to him before he got out of earshot. “Sir Paldren, can you tell me how far the Myrdwyer ruins are from here?”