Farnor looked round the room anxiously. Edrien was sitting with her arm resting on the windowsill, staring out into the greenery. Farnor noticed a squirrel on a nearby branch gazing into the room curiously. Angwen too, sitting nearby, was gently scrutinizing him.
The reference to his horse had pinioned his imme-diate hopes however. After its unrestrained headlong chase through the forest it would almost certainly be in need of considerable rest.
Indeed, he reflected, it was a matter for some won-der that it had not fallen and injured them both badly. And he could scarcely ask to borrow one of Derwyn’s for his homeward journey. He had, after all, no intention of returning.
But despite Derwyn’s plea, he wanted to be away from here. Some instinct told him that each day he spent here would make it harder for him to leave; would soften his grim resolve. ‘I really do have matters that I must attend to,’ he said apologetically. ‘I’ll have a look at my horse. Perhaps I’ll be able to walk it most of the way.’
Derwyn nodded again, but did not speak.
Farnor’s eyes drifted around the room once more. He was unwilling to meet Derwyn’s gaze directly. Edrien was still staring out of the window and Angwen was still looking at him, as if she were expecting him to continue. ‘Perhaps your Hearer will come back when I’ve gone,’ Farnor offered, for want of something to say.
‘Perhaps,’ Derwyn agreed, adding casually, ‘But who’s to say? Who knows what he’s Heard? Or what they want of him? Who knows anything about Hearers, really?’
There was another difficult silence.
‘And perhaps EmRan won’t be so much trouble, if I leave,’ Farnor said.
Derwyn chuckled, as did Angwen. ‘EmRan will al-ways be trouble,’ he replied. ‘It’s in his nature. But don’t you fret yourself about that. I don’t think there’s any problem there that can’t be handled, one way or another.’
Despite his anxiety to be away, Farnor pursued the matter. ‘But losing your Hearer’s a bad thing for you, isn’t it?’
Derwyn’s face became more serious. ‘If we’ve lost him, it’s not good, to be sure,’ he replied. ‘But he only went yesterday and I for one am not going to start fretting about him yet.’
‘But if he doesn’t return?’ Farnor insisted.
‘If the lodge is struck by lightning, if this, if that,’ Derwyn answered, with an expansive shrug. ‘We’ll carry on somehow. It won’t be the first time a lodge has lost its Hearer unexpectedly. I’ll concede I never expected to lose ours, but they’ll provide.’
Farnor let the last remark pass. ‘I still feel I’m re-sponsible in some way,’ he said. ‘And that everything will get back to normal when I’ve gone.’
Derwyn looked at him curiously, as if searching for something unusual about him. ‘You probably are the cause of Marken leaving, Farnor,’ he said. ‘But that’s not to say it’s your fault. Or that you could’ve done anything other than you did.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Farnor replied.
‘Nor I,’ Derwyn said bluntly. ‘That’s another reason why I’d like to persuade you to stay for a day or so.’ He leaned forward, his face concerned. ‘Something very strange is happening, Farnor,’ he went on. ‘Something that involves us all. I’ll not press you about staying, or talking about anything you don’t wish to talk about, but we know that you have deep and terrible troubles. Troubles which, I suspect, came suddenly, without warning. And we in our turn find ourselves suddenly called out to go in search of you, an outsider, when you were injured. I can scarcely believe that, even now. Then our Hearer suddenly decides he must find a quiet place.’ He shook his head. ‘I appreciate our ways are not your ways, but you must understand that these are matters of great strangeness and import to us and that your affairs and ours are linked in some way.’
‘I don’t know what to say, or what I can do,’ Farnor said unhappily. ‘I know nothing of trees and Hearers.’ He let out a noisy sigh. ‘Didn’t Marken say anything about why he had to leave?’
Derwyn pursed his lips. ‘Nothing helpful,’ he said. He frowned a little. ‘He said that something portentous was going to happen – or had happened. He couldn’t even tell which. And that he had felt a sense of expecta-tion amongst them for some time. Something to do with – someone unusual – someone from beyond. But all very vague.’
Farnor turned away from him.
Derwyn finished his tale. ‘I asked him how long he had sensed these strange feelings and he said that he didn’t know, but it was suddenly as if he had known of them for many years, and for some reason hadn’t noticed them.’
Farnor shook his head. ‘I can’t help you with any of this,’ he said, looking restlessly about the room again. Abruptly he blurted out, ‘My village was attacked by… bandits… and I ran away, in a panic. That’s all that happened. I’m certainly nothing special. I don’t know anything about Hearers and Movers and talking trees. I’m just a farmer’s son – a farmer. I must get back to my land. And my people.’
At the word Movers, Angwen raised her head slightly and caught her husband’s eye significantly. Derwyn opened his mouth to say something then appeared to change his mind. ‘Don’t upset yourself, Farnor,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to pry into your grief. It seems that we’ve all got questions that can’t be an-swered.’ He turned to his daughter. ‘Edrien, take him down to the stables, would you, and show him where his horse is.’ He smiled at Farnor. ‘Let’s confine ourselves to practical matters, farmer’s son. When you’ve examined your horse, let me know what you want to do. If you still want to leave, we’ll take you to where we found you and go south with you as far as we can.’
When Farnor and Edrien had left, Derwyn turned to his wife.
‘He Hears,’ she said. She held out her hand and snapped her fingers. The squirrel, which had been silently watching the proceedings, scuttled a little way along the branch and then with two swift jumps, landed on the window sill. Angwen picked it up and held it in front of her face. Its nose twitched and Angwen wrinkled hers in imitation. ‘He Hears, doesn’t he, little one?’ she said. ‘That’s why you wouldn’t come in, isn’t it? You could tell. A strange, black-haired Hearer is someone to be long watched before you come too close, isn’t he?’ The squirrel ran up her arm and sat on her shoulder. Angwen offered it a piece of fruit from a bowl on the table. The squirrel examined it shrewdly, then, turning it over a few times with its front paws, began nibbling it. Angwen lifted the animal down and put it back on the window sill.
Derwyn looked unsure. ‘You’re certain?’ he asked.
‘You’re the one with the instinct, hunter,’ Angwen said mockingly. ‘I’m supposed to be the logical one, but even I can feel that he’s tormented, driven. There’s a great deal that he’s not told us about. Perhaps he can’t face it himself yet.’
Derwyn nodded. ‘He couldn’t have heard anyone talking about Movers, could he?’ he said. Angwen did not reply.
‘What shall we do?’ he went on.
There was a tiny flurry as the squirrel scratched itself vigorously. Then it leapt out into space and, with a series of bounding jumps was soon far away from them.
‘As you said, let him go,’ Angwen replied simply, watching the retreating squirrel.
‘But…’
‘Let him go,’ she repeated. ‘The alternative is to hold him here in some way. And the mood he’s in that’ll probably mean locking him up somewhere. He’s got problems enough without that.’
‘I wish I knew what they wanted,’ Derwyn said fret-fully. ‘I wish Marken was here.’
‘So do I,’ Angwen said. ‘But he isn’t, so all we have is our own judgement.’
‘We can’t lock him up, for pity’s sake,’ Derwyn mused. ‘I suppose we’ll have to let him go.’
‘Don’t sound so reluctant about it,’ Angwen said, half laughing. ‘After all, they let him in, and if he wanders off then they’ll decide where he goes. Perhaps for some reason they’re just using us to give him shelter while he recovers. Perhaps they need him to leave to be able to use him.’
Derwyn shook his head. ‘There’s more to it than that, I’m sure. Only yesterday you were reminding me that they don’t normally interfere with our affairs. How much less likely are they to interfere with the affairs of an outsider?’