Darkwalker on Moonshae - Douglas Niles [48]
“I’ve tried to understand,” said Robyn thoughtfully. “I looked up, and saw that thing next to you, and all I could think about was how much I wanted you to live. I screamed – I guess I panicked – and the next thing I knew, the trees bent down and grabbed him.”
“But how?” the prince persisted. “It seemed like magic, and I’ve never known you to have any interest in sorcery.”
“I don’t!” Robyn replied, with a shudder. “I’ll leave the sorcerers to the High King’s council!
“Still,” she continued, “that did not seem sorcerous to me. It was more as if the trees reached out to help me.”
She turned to the woods, pensively, and watched a pair of squirrels chatter to each other on a high limb. Then she laughed, and Tristan asked why.
“That fellow ate a pile of nuts that his lady had her eyes on. She’s really letting him have it!” Suddenly she looked at him in surprise.
“That’s exactly what was happening!” she insisted. “I could understand them!” She looked back at the squirrels, and then turned thoughtful.
“Tristan,” she asked, regarding him softly. “What do you know of my parents?”
“Not much,” he responded, “They wouldn’t tell me anything – Arlen, my father, Gretta. You came to the Caer Corwell as a baby, I remember, when I was about two or three. I remember Gretta telling me that your parents had died, and that my father was going to raise you as his ward. I think I asked where you were from, and she told me ‘Corwell,’ but I couldn’t get any more information out of her.
“At the time,” Tristan concluded with a grin, “I was just disappointed that you weren’t a boy!”
Robyn playfully slapped his shoulder, but then turned serious again. “I have asked Father about this, but he never tells me any more than that – what you just told me. I am convinced that my parents’ identity is somehow tied into my… trick, or whatever it was.”
“Why have you suddenly grown curious about this again?”
“Because of that fight with the Firbolgs. I think what happened with the trees might make more sense if I knew more about myself!” With a grimace of frustration, she lapsed into silence. Tristan did not disturb her thoughts.
Finally, as they neared the castle, Tristan admitted, “You know, it has been nice to ride with you. Perhaps we could try to do this together more often?”
“I’d like that,” Robyn smiled, “Except it sounds like you’ll be busy training your company.”
“Dammit! I’m tempted to ignore his orders!” Tristan scowled. “The king as much as told me he expected me to fail.”
“Stop that!” said Robyn, in disgust. “Why don’t you try to understand his point of view, for once, instead of thinking only about what you want?” Angry, but not wanting to spoil the afternoon, the prince turned his gaze to the firth. However, he could feel Robyn’s presence, like a moth feels the light, strongly at his back. She said nothing, and they rode the rest of the way to the castle in silence.
That night, Tristan dreamed of Robyn, and of Firbolgs. It was not a frightening dream so much as a frustrating one. Giants stood around the pair, taunting. He moved to protect the lass, and the trees bent around his own limbs, restraining him. As he watched, helpless, Robyn muttered arcane phrases and the Firbolgs fled, shrieking in terror. Long after they ran, the prince heard her voice, speaking as through a cloaking haze.
*****
Even the brilliant sunshine could not dispel the shadows that seemed to linger around the Iron Keep. That towering black fortress absorbed the light without reflection, creating a splash of gloomy darkness on the hill over Iron Bay.
The area now bustled with activity, as horses, provisions, and weapons were ferried from shore to the longships anchored in the bay, or loaded onto those smaller vessels that had been drawn onto the beach. Quickly, the northmen struck their camps, carting their equipment to the shore in a long but orderly procession. Columns of troops stretched for miles from the bay as the outer camps straggled toward the sea.
Grunnarch the Red watched his own army