Elfsong - Elaine Cunningham [39]
"There is no water here, nor fodder for the horses," Vartain pointed out predictably enough. No matter what idea was presented, the riddlemaster usually had a better one.
"If would seem the best course to ride on. At a good pace, we could be past the wetlands before nightfall. The best and safest campsite would be near the river, but not in the forest itself."
Elaith gave a curt nod of agreement, and Danilo, despite misgivings, gave in.
They rode hard, reining their horses to a walk only when they reached the narrow causeway. Caution was needed, for though some parts of the path had room for two or three to ride abreast, large chunks of the road had been reclaimed by the marsh. They picked their way along, riding in silence.
The chirping of the frogs grew louder as they rode, with an unearthly, reverberating sound that made the marsh seem to close in around them Danilo found it unnerving. When they were near the middle of the causeway, he leaned close to Morgalla and whispered, "Reminds me of the effect I get when singing Tantrasan opera in a small bathchamber."
"Yeah. I don't like it," the dwarf responded grimly.
"Tantrasan opera is an acquired taste," the Harper quipped.
Morgalla nodded absently. "That, too." Her brown eyes searched the shallow water for anything that might signal danger. After a moment she smacked Danilo's knee to get his attention, then pointed to their right. A stand of thick, oat-colored reeds swayed in the breeze. The tops of many had been partially severed, and they emitted a strange, hollow whistle as the wind blew across them. When the riders passed, the flow of air was interrupted and the mournful sound ceased. "An alarm?" the dwarf suggested.
Danilo was about to demur when he noticed a strange stand of reeds several yards ahead. A thick bank of these reeds seemed to have been arranged in several rows. Those in back were long and thick, and each successive row was shorter. The reeds in each row tapered downward to either side. Something about the arrangement struck Danilo's memory. He reached down and tugged at one of the reeds that grew near the path, but it would not give. He took a hunting knife from his boot and hacked off the bent top. It was hard and rigid. The tops of these water plants had not broken by a passing breeze, of that much he was certain. Danilo motioned for Wyn, and the elven minstrel reined his horse over to the Harper's side.
"Look at that bank of reeds ahead," Danilo said softly. "Is it my imagination, or does it remind you of something?"
The gold elf examined the plants politely, then his green eyes widened in astonishment "A pipe organ," he murmured. "Some being has fashioned a musical instrument in this marsh!"
"Damn," Danilo said with feeling. "I was hoping it was my imagination."
The Harper caught Morgalla's eye and rested his hand on his sword hilt She gave a barely perceptible nod, and urged her pony over to Balindar's side. She whispered something, and the huge fighter passed the hushed message down the line. The mercenaries readied their weapons with a lack of subtlety that made Danilo wince. The gold elf, however, took his lyre from its shoulder strap and quickly checked the tuning of the strings.
Immediately, the "organ" began to play. At first, the whistling tones were indistinguishable from the random, hollow sounds of the windswept reeds around them The sounds quickened and became higher in pitch, tumbling together into a dancelike melody that set the bank of reeds ahead quivering merrily. There was something oddly like speech in the music, Danilo noted. A moment later, the song was echoed back from the far side of the marsh. He would have given a great deal to know what the little tune said, and even more to avoid learning to whom the music spoke.
Then the largest reeds began to sound. A deep, resonant call rang out over the marsh in macabre counterpoint