Farnor nodded dully.
Derwyn indicated his daughter. ‘I’ll not ask you any more questions now, Farnor. I should’ve let you rest more, you’re obviously still too distressed. I’ll leave you in Edrien’s charge.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘You’re not used to lodges – homes – like ours, are you?’ he asked.
Farnor shook his head.
‘Incredible,’ Derwyn said softly to himself, then, ‘Well, ask Edrien if there’s anything you want to know, but don’t wander off without her. And do as she tells you. That way, you should come to no harm.’
He beckoned Edrien into the room and, taking her to one side, spoke to her softly. ‘Watch him carefully, listen to him, and learn what you can about him – without actually questioning him, that is. He’s probably more likely to confide in you than in old hollow trunks like me and Bildar.’ He glanced back at Farnor, who was sitting motionless with his head bowed. ‘For all he looks a bit odd, he seems to be a well-set-up lad. I’d say he’s been a hard worker in his time, judging by his hands. But even I can tell he’s broken inside in some way. I fancy he’ll need a lot of help and a lot of patient tending, so keep a rein on that acid tongue of yours, my girl. Do you understand?’
Edrien nodded. ‘I think so, Father,’ she replied, tartly. Then she went over to Farnor. ‘Is it true you’ve never seen a lodge in a tree before?’ she asked bluntly.
Farnor looked at her suspiciously, but saw that the question was sincere. ‘Yes,’ he replied.
Genuine amazement filled Edrien’s face. ‘I’ll help you with the ladders and the ways, then,’ she said. ‘I never realized…’
Derwyn laid a hand on her shoulder. ‘Go with Edrien now,’ he said to Farnor. ‘It’s growing dark. She’ll find somewhere for you to sleep tonight, and tomorrow she’ll find you a room of your own and show you around. Then perhaps we can have another talk.’
No sooner had Farnor and Edrien left, than Der-wyn’s concern showed on his face, and he started to pace up and down. The woman who had accompanied Edrien came into the room. Her movements were soft and fluid and seemingly quite without effort. She sat in the chair that he had been using. ‘You can stop that before you start,’ she announced, with a purposefulness markedly at odds with her gentle demeanour. ‘There won’t be a leaf left on the tree if you carry on pounding up and down like that.’
Jaw set, but making no reply, Derwyn sat down by the window and leaned on the sill, his head on his hand. The setting sun threw the Shadows of the branches outside on to his face, deepening its already well-defined furrows. ‘What do you make of it all, Angwen?’ he asked. ‘Have we taken a cuckoo into our nest?’
The woman laughed softly. ‘It’d be a rare bird that could throw Edrien out of anywhere,’ she replied. ‘That black hair makes him look strange, but from what I’ve just seen and from what little she’s told me, he seems a fragile kind of a soul.’
Derwyn nodded. ‘My impression, too,’ he said. ‘But…’ He stood up and walked over to his wife. ‘… somehow he’s cost us our Hearer and, impressions or no, I want to find out a great deal more about him, and as quickly as possible.’ He sat down opposite his wife and turned to Bildar. ‘How long?’ he asked simply.
Bildar shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea,’ he replied. ‘What he’s said should give you some clue to the state he’s in. What was it? His parents murdered! His home burned. Burned, Derwyn.’ He gave a slight shudder. ‘And then something about being beaten and pursued, just as we’d worked out for ourselves. He’s been through some fearful ordeal, and I doubt he’s Edrien’s age. All I can suggest is that we wait, and in the meantime keep an eye on him. I’ll have another look at him tomorrow, but as far as I can tell there’s nothing wrong with him physically that time won’t put right. I think we’ll have to be very careful about how we question him, though.’
Derwyn looked unhappy. ‘You may well be right,’ he said, after a long pause. ‘But, apart from the disturbance that Marken was talking about, it worries me that something might be happening beyond, that could affect us. Suppose whoever was pursuing him returns to the search. And the people who murdered his parents and burned his home. What if they come looking for him?’
Bildar made no reply.
Derwyn went on, his expression becoming increas-ingly troubled. ‘Or suppose he’s a criminal of some kind, fleeing from lawful pursuit?’
‘That’s not what you feel, is it though?’ his wife asked, her eyes fixed on his face.
‘No,’ Derwyn replied. ‘All I feel is that an injured sparrow has fallen into our care, but…’
Angwen smiled and her manner became mocking. ‘First a cuckoo, now a sparrow,’ she said. ‘What next, Derwyn? An eagle messenger from one of the cloud lands? A white swan from the snow mountains? Or perhaps the raven from the Great Castle of Light?’
‘Stop that,’ Derwyn demanded, impotently, with a jabbing finger. ‘This is serious.’ But his scowl had become a reluctant smile.
‘Of course, my dear,’ Angwen replied, agreeing completely and conceding nothing, as was her usual way. ‘But of the many things he might be, I can’t see him being a criminal, can you?’
‘He might be,’ Derwyn insisted. ‘How can we tell? Just because he’s hurt and fragile looking?’ His eyes widened. ‘He’s got a temper, and he’s shown it already.’
‘And you haven’t, I suppose?’ Angwen retorted.
‘That’s different,’ Derwyn replied defensively.
Angwen raised her eyebrows, mocking again.
‘You’re not helping, Gwen,’ Derwyn spluttered in exasperation.
‘Yes, I am,’ his wife replied simply. ‘You’ve been fretting about this boy ever since you found him, instead of thinking. You’re trying to do too much, too quickly, and you’re not stopping to look at the obvious.’
Derwyn’s eyes widened in feigned surprise. ‘And what obvious is that, my dear?’ he inquired, sitting back and affecting an expression of rapt expectation.
Angwen leaned forward towards him. ‘They’d never have let him in if there’d been any great evil in him, or if any such evil would have been drawn after him,’ she said, quietly and seriously.
Derwyn sighed noisily and nodded. ‘Marken said more or less the same thing,’ he conceded. ‘I suppose you’re right.’ His face relaxed somewhat. ‘Perhaps I have been a little too… agitated… about this business so far.’ He paused, and his eyes became distant. ‘But, seeing the lad lying there, with his strange clothes and his black hair,’ he grimaced slightly. ‘He really did look like something out of an old tale. And now this business with Marken.’ He shook his head. ‘Gone to find a quiet place, for mercy’s sake. Where does that leave us? I’ve heard of that kind of thing happening to Hearers but I scarcely gave it credence. I certainly never thought it’d happen to us, to Marken. This is his root lodge.’
This time it was Angwen who sighed. She rested her chin on her hand pensively. ‘Well, we’ll have to see what he has to say when he comes back,’ she said after a moment.
‘If he comes back,’ Derwyn said significantly. ‘That’s the problem, isn’t it?’
‘He’ll be back,’ Angwen said.
‘You seem quite confident about that,’ Derwyn said, looking at her earnestly. ‘Most of the stories I’ve ever heard about Hearers wandering off to find a quiet place have involved them never coming back.’
Angwen did not reply. Instead she began slowly twisting and turning her hands, bending and straighten-ing her long fingers, and apparently studying them in great detail. Derwyn watched her in silence. Angwen moved now as she had when they had first fallen in love, and through the years he had never tired of watching her subtle, elusive grace. He had never seen the like in any other woman. Still it touched the young man housed inside him. And too, he knew, that there was no pointless vanity in her present examination; she was not looking at her hands, she was ordering her thoughts. Angwen had many kinds of grace.
‘Marken’s well rooted,’ she said eventually. ‘But that’s not what will bring him back. He’ll come back because they want him to. They protected the boy in some way, they drew Marken and thus you to him in a quite unprecedented manner. And there are other lodges round here that could have served the same end, aren’t there?’