Curse of the Shadowmage - Mark Anthony [59]
"Now may I have something to eat?" the wanderer asked solemnly.
Elvar gaped at him, then nodded emphatically. "Of course! You shall have my very finest!" This time, Beris noted, sincerity was written across the lord's porcine face. "But please, stranger," Elvar implored, "tell me your name, so that I can know who has saved Triel from disaster."
The wanderer hesitated a moment, as if he did not quite remember his name. When at last he spoke, he seemed a figure of majesty no longer, but simply a weary traveler.
"Cal," he said haggardly. "You can call me Cal."
*****
The statue watched over the ancient crossroads with deep, moss-filled eyes. A cool wind rushed through the sentinel trees, and the misty forest air was filled with cast-off leaves of copper red and burnished gold. Mari reached out and touched the timeworn stone.
"I've found another one!" she called out.
There was a crashing in the underbrush as the others approached, leading their horses among the trees.
"It is indeed a Talfirian Watcher," Morhion agreed after a moment of study. "You have found the path again."
Whether the statue had once represented man, woman, or god, Mari could not tell. An eternity of wind and rain had worn away all features except the staring pits of the eyes. They had come upon a dozen of the mysterious stone figures over the last two days as they wended their way southward, deeper into the Reaching Woods. It was Jewel who had first discovered the path, the morning after their harrowing flight from the three shalevari in Hill's Edge. At first they thought it was a game trail that paralleled the river. Here and there they turned up what seemed to be cracked paving stones. Then they came upon the first of the Watchers. Morhion instantly realized the significance of the crumbling statue. "This was a road, once," he explained, "built by the Talfirc, the people who dwelt in this land a thousand years ago. They set the Watchers here to guard the way." They had decided to follow the ancient road southward. Again and again they had lost the faint tracks in the underbrush and were forced to stop and make a laborious search. The loss of time worried Mari.
"This path divides in several directions," Kellen noted in his grave manner. "Which way do you think we should go?"
"Whichever way leads fastest toward something to eat, besides hardtack and acorns," Cormik said forlornly. He picked futilely at the dried leaves and burrs that clung to his once-elegant attire.
Jewel parted her ruby hps in a wicked smile. "Personally, I think our strict regimen is doing you good, my sweet, expansive elephant. Sparing amounts of food and generous amounts of exercise are exactly what you need."
With his one good eye, Cormik glared darkly at her. "If I had wanted your opinion, my dear geriatric tart, I most certainly would have requested it. I know exactly what I need, and it involves large and plentiful quantities of roasted pheasant, sweet subtleties, and red Amnian wine. And soon!"
"This path has gradually veered east, away from the River Reaching," Morhion said. "Let us try west. Perhaps that way leads to a ford. We have to get across the river if we're going to pick up Caledan's trail again."
The green forest light was fading to dusk when the narrow path broadened, and they came upon the ruined city. The endless wall of trees parted before them, and the voice of the river roared like thunder on the air. Here the paving stones were intact, though late wildflowers and sweet herbs pushed their way up between the cobbles.
Most of the city's structures were little more than jumbled heaps of stone, tangled with vines and crowned by stands of oak and ash. However, in the center of the city was a circular plaza, in the middle of which rose a tapering, step-sided building.
"I think this was a city of the Talfirc," Morhion said, raising his voice above the rushing river.
"What happened to them?" Mari asked in wonder. "Why did they leave?"
Morhion shook his head. "It is a mystery.