“We shall return as you say, fair friend.” Theido squared his shoulders and clapped Ronsard on the back with his hand. “But I would that we had seen this mysterious enemy and knew somewhat of his strength in numbers. I would feel better if we could but see his face.”
“So should I, but perhaps that time is not far hence. We may yet encounter him before reaching Askelon-though we are ill prepared for battle.”
“I have no wish to engage an unknown enemy, brave sir. Only to espy his methods. All the more since this one seems so fantastic to believe.”
They had been walking back to their horses and upon reaching them Ronsard swung himself up and called to his knights, “Be mounted, men! We are away for Askelon!”
The knights took their saddles and began riding back up the hill the way they had come. But this time they gave the charred circle on the plain a wide berth.
Theido stood for a moment beside his horse, gazing faraway. Behind him he heard Ronsard call; he shrugged, mounted his big black palfrey and hurried to catch the others. As he gained the crest of the hill, the late afternoon sun caught him full in the face and he felt his melancholy flow away in the flood of golden warmth that washed over him. He spurred his horse forward and did not look back.
ELEVEN
DURWIN HIKED his robe over his knees and waded into the reed-fringed pool. The afternoon sun fell in slanting shafts through broad oaks and silver-leaved birch to glint in shimmering bands upon the clear water. Tiny fish flashed away from Durwin’s intruding feet. The liquid, crystalline call of a lark on a nearby branch split the forest’s green silence into two quivering halves.
Durwin stepped carefully into deeper water, scanning the pebble-strewn bottom as he splashed along. He thought for a moment to throw off his robe and submerge himself in the pool’s cool depths, as was his custom on a warm summer’s afternoon in Pelgrin Forest.
But he thought better of the notion, inviting though it was, and continued his browsing. He soon had reason to be glad he had kept his robe, for as he worked his way around the pool, dipping now and then into the water, he noticed something white shining in the water. He glanced again and realized that it was a reflection on the mirrored surface of the pool. With a start he looked up and saw a woman clothed all in white standing on the shaggy, grass-covered bank above him.
“My Lady!” he exclaimed, “you gave me a jump! I did not know that I was being watched.”
“I am sorry, Durwin. I did not mean to alarm you,” laughed Alinea, her voice ringing in the hollow. It had been a long time since he had heard her laugh. “You appeared so deeply engrossed I feared to disturb your thought. Forgive me.”
“Your consideration is most thoughtful, but unnecessary. I am only gathering some biddleweed for a tisane.”
“Water hemlock? That is a deadly poison, is it not?”
“You know the plants of the field and forest?”
“Only a few. My mother, Queen Ellena, knew many remedies and made our medicines for us. As a child I helped her gather the herbs.”
“Well, then you know that a plant is neither deadly nor dangerous, but the intent of the healer makes it so. Yes, some are very powerful. But in wise hands even the most poisonous may make a wonderfully potent cure.”
“Your hands are surely the wisest in the realm, kind hermit. Your medicines are most efficacious.”
“Oh, my Lady! You do not know how sorry your words make me.”
“Have I said something wrong? Please tell me.” The Queen drew a few steps closer to the edge of the bank. Durwin waded toward her.
“No, you intended nothing wrong. But your words mock my lack of skill. For the one patient I would above all heal with my humble craft lies abed-no better now that when I first began his treatment. His malady resists my utmost art.”
“Surely it is a most subtle cachexy.”
“So it is!”
Durwin peered into Alinea’s deep green eyes and read the heavy burden of care which grew there; every day added to the weight. He felt powerless to help her, as he felt powerless when he stood over the birth of a peasant baby born too soon and dying before it had begun to live. He would have taken the burden upon himself though it was a thousand times greater. But there was nothing he could do, save stand aside, humbled by his own uselessness.
“Do you think the Most High God hears our prayers for the sick?”
“He must, my Lady. He hears all prayers and answers each in its own season.”
“Then prayer will do what potions cannot.”
“You shame me with your faith. In my search through all my medicines I have sorely neglected that remedy. But no more.”
The Queen sighed and raised her eyes to a sky shining soft and blue and bright in the afternoon light. Clouds fair and faraway drifted slowly on the breeze which rustled the trees gently from time to time. The little pond was a polished glass reflecting all that passed above. Alinea plucked a tiny purple flower from a cluster at her feet. She gazed into it as if seeking a sign from its maker.
Durwin continued wading, stooping now and then to snatch up a plant by its roots. When he had collected enough, he strode through the water and climbed the bank where Alinea had settled to wait in the shade.
“What is happening, Durwin?” Her question was softly spoken, but the uncertainty in her voice and the worry lurking behind her eyes gave it the impact of a shout Before he could speak a reassuring word she continued, “It seems to me that something very bad, some dark evil, is growing, drawing nearer. Sometimes I stop for no reason and a cold fear passes over me. It is gone again as quickly as it came, but afterwards it lingers in the air like a chill, and nothing is the same.”
“I, too, have felt it. But I am at a loss to explain it. Something, I believe, is moving in the land-something evil, yes. It is unknown now, but will not so remain. Too soon we will know what it is.”
“To hear you speak so does cheer me, though your words are not happy ones. At least I know that a dear friend feels as I do and understands.”
“I would reassure you if I could.”
“You have done your service well. I came here hoping to find you and to rest a little. I have seen naught of the hills and woods of late, and the summer is waxing full.”
“It is peaceful here. When I come here I can almost imagine that I am in the heart of Pelgrin itself, it is so quiet. I take heart that even in a storm-blown sea of troubles, there are still islands of serenity to be found. Nothing can touch them, and nothing will.”
The Queen moved to rise, and Durwin offered his hand. “Stay a while longer if you wish, my Lady. I must go and begin with these.” He shook sparkling drops from the biddleweed.
“No, we will return together. I must look in on the King once again.”
They moved to their horses and the ride back to Askelon Castle in the quiet warmth of each other’s company.
“Where do you come from, changeling?” Quentin asked, squeezing the water from his jerkin. “And what is your name?”
“I’ll not tell you until I know who it is that asks.” The young woman’s eyes flashed defiantly.
“All right, a name for a name. I am Quentin and this is my friend and servant, Toli.” As he said their names, Quentin thought he saw a flicker of recognition cross the girl’s comely features. “Do those names mean anything to you?”
“No. Should they?” she shot back.
“There are some who would have heard them spoken before, that is all.”
“I suppose there are some who have heard of most anyone as loud and quarrelsome as you two are.”
Quentin rankled at the girl’s sharp tongue. “You have not told us your name though we have given ours,” he said crossly.
“I give my name to whom I choose. And I choose to be known only by my friends.” She shook her limp, wet hair and turned her face away.