Chapter 43 Stasya
43
Stasya
If they kept on going, they’d soon be overtaken. Hiding somewhere and letting whoever it was pass seemed the best option. But what if they had a tracking dog, or more than one? How else could they possibly have worked out the way, when the paths she’d followed were unlikely to have been trodden by humankind before? But how would a dog have managed to get across the ridgeway? She sent Flip a mind-picture of a large hound stepping nimbly along the narrow path, and Flip responded with an image of the creature turning into an eagle and soaring up to fly to the nearest tall tree . An ordinary dog, Flip. Not like you. There was no reply. She tried a different picture: Flip as a bird, finding a hidden cavern shielded by thick undergrowth and leading them in. All of them crouched deep in shadow as pursuers headed on past, oblivious. The reply came swiftly: a pack of wolves, moving with purpose through a tract of forest that bore a close resemblance to the place they were in right now.
Stasya motioned to the others to halt. Cupped her ear to signal Listen . She did not expect to hear wolves, but if men were following their voices, their footfalls might betray them. All was quiet save for the hoot of an owl, a sorrowful echo through the trees. She took a moment to judge the position of the moon, which was shielded by the canopy. Losing the way would be disastrous.
A choice lay ahead, one she did not want to make. The sound of the Ruler’s men killing those rats would be forever with her. Yes, wolves were dangerous; yes, they might launch an attack on an unwary party of travellers. She could, perhaps, ask the wolves to stay back, to let them pass. But there was always a risk in using her gift that way. And she would not say, Let us pass, but do not let them pass . That was to assume the role of a god. How could she order a fellow creature to kill? She did not yet know who was following them. It might be someone with no ill intent. She couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t do it.
Aleks came close. ‘What is it?’ he whispered.
‘Wolves. We must get under cover somewhere, hide away. It’s either that or stay alert until whoever it is catches up and …’ And fight. She couldn’t say it.
‘Sounds travel oddly here.’ Karolis had moved up to them, and whispered as the others did. ‘If they were on the ridgeway when we heard them, that puts them a couple of days behind us – too far, you’d think, for us to catch the sound. But we know already that the usual rules of time and space may not apply here. Provided we’re under good cover before first light, we could wait them out.’
‘Stasya.’ There was a note in Aleksis’s voice that made her heart shrink. ‘Could the wolves … help us? Would you use them in that way, if it were a life-or-death choice?’
The question hit her like a punch to the gut. How could he ask that? Didn’t he realise what it meant? How much it would hurt? Couldn’t he understand that it would lie like a shadow over her forever?
‘It’s all right.’ His tone had changed. ‘I shouldn’t have asked.’
The words burst out, unstoppable. ‘It’s not all right, it’s never all right, there’s always hurt, there’s always a price to pay—’
Karolis’s arm went around her, holding her still; his other hand came over her mouth. Aleks hissed, ‘Shh!’ Oh gods, she’d been almost shouting, so loud, too loud …
Karolis released his hold. Stasya put her own hands up to cover her face. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I’m so sorry …’
‘We move on.’ Aleks spoke in a murmur. ‘Stay alert, be ready for whatever comes.’
Stasya felt the small weight of a bird settle on her shoulder. Flip had changed again. Why now, there was no knowing, but it was a good thing. They’d be quicker this way. She drew a deep breath, scrubbed her cheeks with a hand, straightened her back. I, too, will be strong. I, too, will hold the light. The trees seemed to whisper a response; the moon looked down through a break in the canopy as if to remind her that the light still shone, even if she had made a foolish mistake. She nodded in Aleks’s direction without really looking at him. What she saw was the face of Lukas, who stood behind him. For just a moment, a deep yearning to go back to old times flooded her heart. To have the old Lukas back, the one whose quiet company helped her cope with the confusion of dealing with the world; the one whose kindness was a gift beyond measure. The brave, true Lukas. She managed a smile, though no doubt it looked as wobbly as it felt, and Lukas smiled back at her. She gave him a nod: We’ll cope. We always do. He returned it. Then she hitched up her pack and led the team onward.
—
They walked on in the moonlight, pausing only when sheer exhaustion overtook one or other of them. They kept going until the sky lightened with the first hint of dawn and it was plain they could go no further without rest. They had heard no more shouting, no human voices save their own, but Stasya felt in her bones that the pursuit was drawing closer. There were signs. A flock of small birds, what kind she could not tell, rising from the forest lower down as if startled, then winging overhead in rapid flight toward the Hermit. A curious wind that shivered through the trees, stirring the leaves to a troubled whisper. And something more: the silent voices of small creatures, martens, mice, hedgehogs, animals she would not have expected to be here so high on the mountain. All of them were giving her one message: Beware. Danger. Hide. Or was that message only for their own kind? Perhaps she was the danger. Perhaps, now that she had come so far with Aleks’s team, the forest no longer saw her as a friend.
The endless ranks of pine and larch gave way to more open ground again. For some miles ahead Stasya could see no caves or crannies, no thickets in which they might hide and rest. Matiss’s breathing was painful to hear. Lukas was struggling despite his efforts to keep up. And her own head felt fuzzy. They had to stop.
‘Aleks?’
‘Mmm.’ He halted; so did the others.
No need to say a thing. They made their way back under the pines, eventually finding a patch where they could set down their packs and stretch out on the needled ground. No undergrowth beyond a few scrubby bushes. No large stones to shield them. No rock faces with handy concealed caves. But it was clear they could not go on. Stasya’s mind showed her the five of them lying down and falling immediately into exhausted sleep. Then pursuers moving in and slaughtering every one of them, with almost no resistance. A victory for the Ruler. A triumph for cruelty and injustice. That couldn’t be allowed to happen. It was all wrong. The Hermit … Markus … the Ruler … Oh gods, she couldn’t keep her eyes open …
A peck on the ear from Flip. Wake up! Then a sequence of images: the little bird flying away, swooping over another group of travellers – their number and character were not clear – then returning to this place, where Stasya and her companions were waiting, alert, with weapons in their hands.
‘Yes,’ Stasya said aloud. ‘Go.’ And did her best to send Flip a triumphant mind-picture in return – the bird in soaring flight, a rescuer, a champion. A moment later, Flip was gone. No explanations were necessary.
‘We set a watch,’ said Karolis. ‘Short shifts. I’ll go first. Keep your weapon to hand and be ready to act the moment you wake.’
‘Drink before you rest.’ Stasya lowered herself to the ground. Every bit of her was aching. How much worse must it be for Matiss? She watched as Aleks helped the big man find a comfortable position; as Karolis handed Lukas a water skin. If she let herself fall asleep, she might wake to find the others all dead. That terrible moment on the ridgeway would be with her forever. ‘Flip will bring back information if she can.’ As for why Flip had done this now when she been so unwilling earlier, Stasya was too tired to think about it.
‘Wake me as soon as you need to, Karolis.’ Aleks looked grim. ‘No longer than an hour.’
‘I’ll take third watch,’ Stasya said, wondering if there was any possibility they would have that long. As she lay down, her bones heavy with weariness, she sensed the wolves again. Not as close as the last time, but close enough. Moving cautiously. Alert to trouble. One among them was a leader; he was watchful, as Karolis would be. Should she reach out to him now? At least let him know she was a friend and meant them no harm? That much was true; but she could not promise harm would not befall them at the hand of humankind. Not with two parties on the mountain, one hunting the other. She would wait until Flip came back and she knew more. As for sleep, it was doing its best to blot out her troubles, to steal away her ability to think. But sleep felt perilous.
‘Stasya?’
Aleks’s voice, a murmur. He must be closer than she’d thought.
‘Mmm?’
‘Try to sleep. And … thank you.’
‘For what?’
‘For all you’ve done. For being brave. For … for holding the light.’
Oh gods, now the tears were coming again. What was that but a final farewell? Pull yourself together, Stasya. ‘We’ll win through, Aleks,’ she whispered. ‘We’ll find him. We’ll give the story the best ending we can.’
—
Flip was back before the first watch ended, waking Stasya from deep sleep with an urgent peck. Stasya sat up, rubbing her eyes. Around her the others, too, were waking. Stasya struggled to open her mind to Flip’s; her thoughts were still half-caught in sleep. But the gnawing fear in her belly overcame the weariness, and she managed to focus. Show me, Flip.
Only one image, and she knew the place. Gods help them, it was not long since they had walked through it. The men were clustered around her now, holding back their own words, waiting for the news. She made herself speak. ‘They’re almost here. At least six men, armed. And there’s a dog.’ She swallowed, wondering if she might be sick. Tell them. ‘I think one of them is the Commander. And … one of them looked like Pavel.’ Shocking as that glimpse had been, she could imagine how it might have happened. An unspeakable threat to his wife and baby son if he did not cooperate. An impossible choice. But when? Had his solitary expedition to the settlement seen him apprehended and hauled before the Commander? That could hardly be right; pursuit would have been almost immediate if he’d told the authorities the truth then. Perhaps the person Flip saw wasn’t him. Perhaps it was some other young man with hair that shone golden in the dawn light, some other poor soul forced to act out the Commander’s will.
‘We can’t stay ahead of them,’ Aleks said. ‘We’ll have to stand and fight.’
‘No choice,’ said Karolis, nodding. ‘We have a little warning, at least. Matiss, what can you manage one-handed?’
‘Throwing knives. Once they’re gone, I’ll need to resort to kicking.’
‘Keep the sling on, don’t even think of trying to use that arm. How about an axe?’
‘One-handed? No. Best give that to someone else.’
‘Maybe this.’ Lukas had found a sturdy fallen branch and was using his knife to strip it into a makeshift staff. ‘Keep it close by, grab it when you need it.’
‘Good,’ said Karolis. ‘Stasya, you’re the one they’ll be after. Not to kill; to take back to Dragon’s Keep. Be ready to fight. But let us protect you if we can.’ As the sky brightened above the high limbs of pine and larch, he gestured, guiding the team into position. Lukas to one side; Matiss to the other. Himself in the centre with Aleksis and Stasya just behind him. All too soon came the sound of stealthy footsteps.
Stasya stood with feet planted firm and knife in hand, wondering if she could bring herself to use it against a man, even one so vile as the Commander. Her heart was hammering, but she held her body strong. Flip had flown up into a tree and could no longer be seen. That was one blessing, at least. For now, padding with steady purpose and nose to the ground, came a large dog.
‘Don’t—’ she began, knowing the creature was only doing the work it had been trained to do.
There was a sharp whistle, and the dog dropped immediately to its belly, while out from the tree cover came the pursuers, their own weapons at the ready. Not charging in to kill; they, too, were waiting for an order.
‘Master Aleksis!’ The Commander came to a halt, standing with legs apart. His voice dripped with disdain. ‘And you, Witch! Why is that no surprise?’
The look in his eyes made Stasya’s gorge rise. His belt was hung about with knives, and in his right hand he gripped a wooden bar from which hung a chain with a studded metal ball at the end. That thing would crush a man’s skull like an eggshell. And … that fair-haired man behind him was Pavel. He looked as sick as she felt. The whole band of them – seven? eight? – was armed to the teeth. How could they possibly … unless … Oh gods, she didn’t want to do it. She might have to do it …
‘Well met, Rihard.’ Aleksis spoke like the seasoned negotiator he was, with perfect confidence and calm. As if he were not looking death in the face. ‘Perhaps you were not aware that we came here on the Ruler’s orders. A mission to unlock the secrets of the mountain without destroying half of the place in the process. What exactly is your purpose in this out-of-the-way spot?’
‘You’re lying,’ the Commander said. ‘Ruler’s orders? Bollocks! She’s got folk out hunting for you all over the Northlands. Abandoned your post, took your unsavoury friends with you, not to speak of the girl there, and left court in the middle of the night without telling a soul. Fortunately, this young fellow’—he gestured toward Pavel—‘saw the utter idiocy of your venture. Told us the whole story after a bit of persuasion. Could have done with that information earlier, but he’s making up for it now, aren’t you, lad? Now what’s it to be, Master Aleksis? Do you admit your folly and hand over the girl, or does this end in blood? Give her to me, take yourself and your cronies quietly off across the border, and you may yet avoid the penalty for treason.’
Aleksis didn’t say a word, but his rage was in every inch of his body. It was Lukas who responded, his voice harsh with fury. ‘Lay so much as a finger on her and you’re dead!’
Rihard threw back his head and laughed. ‘Oh, dear. The goat boy. The village troublemaker. Got a fondness for the witch, have we? But then, the girl’s been travelling with you men, sleeping rough, living wild … How did that work? Did you share her among you? A different one each night? She must have learned a thing or two by now. And on the way home my team will indulge in the same pleasure, if you could call it that.’ He glanced Stasya’s way, an expression of disgust on his face. ‘On second thoughts, maybe not. A fellow might find himself turned into a toad or a weevil.’
‘You always did talk too much, Rihard.’ Somehow, Aleks was still managing to sound calm. A glance passed between him and Karolis, who gave the smallest of nods. The quiet woodland was suddenly filled with shouts of challenge and clashing weapons and bodies hurling themselves one way or another. No shield; no protective clothing. Rihard was coming Stasya’s way, whirling his hideous weapon, but suddenly Matiss was there, reaching out left-handed with his makeshift staff, catching the chain with its spiked ball and hauling the whole thing bodily away from its wielder. Rihard roared with fury. One of his men crashed into Matiss’s right side and sent the big man sprawling. The only thing in Stasya’s mind was, Save him . She leaped forward, sliced upward – her knife met resistance – then pulled the weapon out. The man clapped two hands to his belly. Blood welled between his fingers. Oh gods, the sound he made … Stasya, focus. Another man was close, fighting Aleks, their arms locked, both knives within inches of their marks … She kicked out, her boot striking the man’s shin, making him stagger, and Aleks’s weapon delivered the death cut. Her head was whirling, her heart was pounding, she could hardly breathe. Matiss. Still on the ground. Struggling to rise. And there was … there was Pavel, reaching out a hand to help him up. Or was he about to strike? In the chaos, it was hard to see clearly. The thud of blows, the cries of agony, the curses and gasps for breath … Karolis was fighting like a legendary warrior, all speed and skill, and Aleks was beside him now. She couldn’t spot Lukas. Three of the enemy were on the ground, dead, dying, there was no knowing. But they kept on coming; there were surely more than seven.
‘Aleks!’ she shouted. ‘Get down!’
He ducked as a sword slashed through the air at neck height, then threw himself at his attacker, knocking the weapon from his hand. Stasya saw the look on his face, the same she had glimpsed in the flames: pure fury, sheer intent. He would die rather than surrender. They might all die. Matiss was struggling, limping as he wielded the staff. There was Lukas, backed up against a tree, fending off two attackers. New men. Men who’d been waiting at a distance until they were needed. And Rihard, now, was simply watching the whole thing unfold with a smug smile of satisfaction on his face. He turned to look at her, and the smile turned to an expression that froze her heart. He pointed toward Aleks, whose tunic wore splashes of blood, and addressed his men. ‘Take him! The royal adviser! Eliminate him and they’ll all give up. I’ll deal with the witch!’ He strode toward her.
Now. It was time. Quick, Stasya. She backed up, ducked into the shadows under the pines, and sent an urgent message to Flip, a mind-picture of her comrades falling, and then of wolves. As the Commander came closer, cursing as he tripped on a tree root, she opened her mind to the wolf leader. He and his pack were not far off; she had sensed them circling, disturbed by the noise, the smell of blood, the possible threat to their safety. She made herself breathe; getting this wrong would be disastrous. We need your help, right now! This man is a danger to the forest and all its creatures. My comrades and I seek only to reach a wise friend. Her image was of the old woman from the vision, beckoning, smiling . But these men would kill us all. Please help! I am a friend of the forest. Rihard was right on the other side of this tree. She could hear his breathing. And now, from out there, came a cry of pain in a voice she would know anywhere. Lukas. She couldn’t wait. She couldn’t let him die. Come now! Please!
One deep breath. Knife at the ready. The blade was stained red. There was blood on her hands; blood spattered on her clothing. Wrong. So wrong it made her want to scream. But Rihard was there, just waiting for her to move so he could grab her. The oak’s deep roots hold fast to the earth. I, too, will be strong. She stepped out from cover and moved swift as a deer, darting past the Commander and forward. One of the enemy had Lukas pinned against a tree trunk; the man had his forearm across Lukas’s neck and was pressing hard. No time to think, except that she risked hurting both of them if she aimed wrong. She dived forward and slashed low with her knife, cutting into the assailant’s inner thigh. He gasped, staggered, fell. Blood spurted. She had known where to strike.
Lukas put his hand on her shoulder. Not to comfort, but to keep himself upright. He was saying something, but it made little sense. ‘Back … can’t … Stasya, run …’
The gurgling, dying man at her feet had lost control of his bowels. She had done that. She had killed, once, twice, maybe more. Lukas was wobbling, close to collapse. ‘Just go,’ he croaked. ‘Save yourself.’
The numbers were thinning. Karolis accounted for another man, apparently with his bare hands; Aleks was under attack again, two against one, and Karolis moved in to support him. She caught a glimpse of Pavel. He and Matiss were fending off attackers together. And Rihard … Rihard was coming toward her again. He had taken his time. Changed his mind, perhaps, about what he wanted. Stasya stepped in front of Lukas, shielding him with her knife at the ready and the body of his attacker at her feet. Now! Please!
The forest came alive with wolves. They streamed across the scene of battle, and with them flew a bird. It was a plain little thing, brown in colour, easy to overlook. But this bird darted about, always clear of the thrust of knives or the blow of staves, working with the creatures, showing them where to attack and where to hold back, guiding them between friend and enemy even in the confusion and carnage. The Commander’s surviving men fell, screaming as sharp teeth bit into arm or leg or neck, writhing and bleeding on the carpet of pine needles, crying for their mothers. Stasya watched in horror. She had called the wolves in; she had known how it might be. And how it might have been, had Flip not thought to direct the attack. The wolves had spared her friends. Still, it was hell. It was horror. It was unthinkable. But here it was before her eyes, and she should never use her gift this way again, because nobody should have so much power, nobody … She dropped her knife and squeezed her eyes shut. I can’t look, I can’t see this …
A howl of pain. A blow to her heart, hard and final as death … Her eyes sprang open. The wolf leader was on the ground, writhing, screaming. A great cut had sliced open his belly. Over him stood the Commander, long knife bloodied, grin triumphant, even as his men lay dead or dying all around him. The hurt was in every part of her body, her heart, her gut, her limbs, her head … She had never felt such agony. It froze her where she stood. In that moment Rihard moved, and she found herself pinned back against him with a knife at her throat.
‘Drop your weapons or she dies right now!’
One by one they obeyed. Even Aleks. Lukas’s face was a mask of horror. Were none of the Commander’s men left alive? Not one? Oh gods, the wolf … The wolf still lived, but its life was draining away with each moment that passed. And somewhere in the clearing a man was dying. She dared not move her head to see who it was, lest the Commander make good his threat. She dared not make so much as a gasp. But she felt that man’s anguish, his regret, his confusion …
‘Let her go, Rihard.’ Aleks had found his senior adviser voice, though it was not quite steady. ‘What’s your plan, to walk all the way home on your own?’
‘Shut your mouth, Master Aleksis! She’ll do what I want, or she’ll die. And you’ll go along with it if you put any value on your own future. Look what you’ve done. See the carnage your ridiculous plan has caused. I lost five good men on that wretched ridgeway, and I’ve lost more here, thanks to you and your foolish quest. What in the name of the gods did you imagine you were doing?’ His grip tightened; Stasya felt the cold bite of the knife against her skin. Through tears, she saw a subtle glance between Aleks and Karolis, and knew what it meant. ‘Don’t— ’ she breathed.
Something flew across the open area with a wild screech. It came within inches of Stasya’s face, making her blink. The Commander started in shock. His fingers lost their hold on the knife and his grip on Stasya slackened. She twisted, freeing herself, and delivered a swift kick to his groin. He grunted in pain, cursed, bent to retrieve the weapon. As he rose to stand, something whirred across the clearing and struck him on the temple, felling him.
‘Do with him what you will. Do what justice demands.’
A figure had appeared from under the trees, holding what appeared to be a slingshot. A warrior. A woman. But not a human woman, for there was a subtle difference about her features. She was tall, fair, clad all in green, and she wore vine leaves in her hair. Stasya and her companions stood mute as others came out to join her, both men and women, encircling them. Their beauty and composure suggested ancient times, ancient tales. Some were fair, some dark. Some carried bows and quivers; some had shining knives at their belts. Some carried woven baskets. The Forest Folk. Or if not the folk of the tales, exactly, then something very like them.
For a few shocked moments everyone stood still and silent. It was Lukas who moved first, stepping forward and bending to retrieve the knife the Commander had dropped. He knelt by Rihard. The man’s chest was moving; he still lived. And now, his lids fluttered and he opened his eyes to stare up at Lukas. Stasya’s teeth were clenched. Her face was wet with tears. The pain still throbbed in her chest.
‘May you find forgiveness in the Afterlife,’ Lukas said quietly, and with one steady stroke he drew the blade across the Commander’s throat. He’d always been good with knives.
Oh, gods. The pain was unbearable. It was calling her to action, for she too had a farewell to make. She would not beg for forgiveness. Too late, with that handsome creature lying on the forest floor with his belly cut open and the last light fading from his eyes. None of the other wolves was in sight, but she could feel their presence, feel their anguish. And … closer at hand, there was a dog. A good dog who had just witnessed hell. A dog who had crept in now that things were quiet; a dog whose master was probably lying here among the dead. Perhaps she had killed that man.
Aleks had moved under the trees. He was crouched down beside a figure whose clothing was soaked in blood, whose struggle for breath could be heard even from here. A man with hair the colour of sunshine on ripe barley. Pavel. He was saying something to Aleks, even as he gasped for air. Aleks was supporting him, helping him into a half-sitting position; she knew he was speaking words of comfort and forgiveness. Stasya had her own work to do, and it must be now.
She knelt by the fallen wolf, laid a gentle hand on his side, struggled to make herself calm through the pain. If she felt like this, how much worse must it be for this beautiful creature who had sacrificed himself today? She opened her mind fully to his; knew his regret, his sorrow to leave his mate, his pack, his life in the great forest. There was only one way to farewell him, only one thing to do. She sang a song she remembered from long ago, a lullaby Grandmother had sung to her at bedtime, much of which was wordless. It was a song of the forest: the wind in the trees, the splashing of frogs in the pond, the footfalls of deer, the many calls of birds. The voices of wolves and of owls. The sun, the moon, the starry night. She sang, and under her hand the wolf calmed, and his heartbeat slowed, and in her own heart the pain began to ease. She sang until he released his last breath. Around her the clearing was silent as the men sat watching, and the tall folk stood under the trees listening. ‘Sleep, my dear one,’ Stasya whispered. ‘Sleep, my brave one. Fly high; dive deep; dance with the wind; run fleet in the forest. You will never be forgotten. Sleep, sweet soul.’
She sat there a while after the wolf was gone. When she opened her eyes, it was to see Aleks closing the eyes of Pavel, who lay limp in his arms. Karolis bowed his head; Matiss did the same. Lukas was standing beside the fallen Commander, the knife in his hand. He dropped the weapon now and dashed away tears, leaving a bloody mark on his cheek. ‘Come!’ he said, clicking his fingers, and the tracking dog padded over to him and sat obediently at his feet, though it was shivering hard. ‘Good boy.’ Lukas crouched to stroke the dog’s head, and when he got up to walk away, the dog walked by his side.