killed. No, I’ll stay here with the old man. I’ll pray for you and await your return. And if you don’t, I’ll accept his offer to take me home so I can tell Rhiannon and the rest what you did to try to help us; the sacrifices the two brothers made, too. Funny, I never really took to that pair when they were alive. Now they’ve gone I miss having them around.”
Dodinal said nothing. Then he frowned as Hywel’s words sunk in. “How did you know the old man said he would take you home?”
“Just because my eyes were closed didn’t mean I was asleep. You’d be surprised how much you hear when people don’t think you’re listening.” Hywel’s tone grew serious. “Keep your wits about you, Dodinal. Find the boy and get away as quickly as you can. Don’t try to be the hero and take them on. Better to live to fight another day.”
“Getting away in one piece will be a task in itself. Even if there only eight of them, they still outnumber us two to one.”
“You sound very calm. Aren’t you afraid? I would be.”
“Yes, I’m afraid.” The fear was there, gnawing away at his guts. “Fear is healthy. Fear keeps you vigilant. When the time comes, I’ll be ready.”
“Not too ready, I hope. I know you, Dodinal. You creep through the forest like a ghost. Wherever they are, you can be in and back out with the boy before they even realise he’s gone. Unless you’re disturbed, there should be no reason for you to confront them. If you’re tempted to avenge Idris and all those other poor bastards who died, just remember Owain will be relying on you for his life.”
“I wouldn’t be going after them if it wasn’t for the boy. My first concern is getting him out in one piece. I won’t even think about what else I should or should not do until he is safe.”
“Forget anything else,” said Hywel. “Just get back here so we can all go home together. I’d sooner walk through the forest with my victorious friends than that old man. He gives me the shivers. You heard that story of his. How can he live with the shame?”
“Don’t be so hasty to pass judgement,” Dodinal said, picking up his sword and resuming his slow, methodical sharpening. The scrape of metal on stone echoed around the narrow valley so that it sounded like a host of men preparing for battle. “Many people have secrets.”
“Yourself too?”
Dodinal said nothing.
“Perhaps one day you’ll tell me.” Hywel stood, yawning as he stretched. “I’ll go and wake the others. I don’t suppose you’ll be wanting to hang around here any longer than you have to.”
Dodinal watched Hywel until he disappeared inside the hut, then finished sharpening the sword. Finally he held it straight out and plucked a hair from his beard, draping it across the blade. The hair split in two, the severed halves spiralling slowly to the ground. Satisfied, Dodinal sheathed the sword. Even the gargoyle creatures with their leathery hides would be no match for it.
The sky grew brighter. From inside the hut he could hear a chorus of coughing and raised voices, throaty with sleep and smoke. He made his way back in and was pleasantly surprised to find a pot set over the fire and a faint smell of food in the air. “It’s not much,” the old man said, squatting alongside the pot, stirring its contents. “But better to leave on a full stomach than an empty one.”
He poured thick gruel into a variety of battered old dishes and beakers and handed them around. With no spoons to eat with, they waited until the gruel had cooled before scooping it into their mouths with their fingers. It tasted of nothing much and sat like a heavy stone in Dodinal’s belly, but would keep hunger away for some time.
“Keep an eye out for goats,” their host told them as they ate. “Tough little bastards, not afraid of anything. They’ll trample and eat adders, or so it’s said. But they make good eating.”
Finally the time came for them to be on their way. They emptied their packs and sorted through their contents, taking only what they thought they would need, putting it into a single pack to lighten their load. They left their cloaks behind for the same reason.
They shook Hywel’s hand one by one, each man vowing they would be back for him. The tracker somehow conjured a smile and told them he looked forward to that day, but it was plain to see he was desperate to go with them. Dodinal was the last to leave; he looked back just before he walked outside and saw the hunter slump to the ground, head down, looking lost and alone and defeated. For a moment he almost relented, but this was not the time to allow his heart to rule his head. He raised one hand in a half-hearted salute and set off after the others.
The old man waited for them, nodding towards the southern end of the valley. Now the sun had risen, banishing the shadows around them, Dodinal could see many of the trees had been felled, their stumps like broken teeth in the mouth of the coomb; fuel for the fires that kept the ghosts at bay.
“I’ll take you as far as the lake and show you where you need to go from there. After that, you’re on your own.” The old man seemed almost pathetically eager to please, perhaps desperate to make amends in any way he could for what he and his people had done.
He led the way up the steep slope, setting a punishing pace that belied his advanced years and gaunt body. Gerwyn stayed close behind him, followed by Madoc and Gwythyr, all three of them gasping as they struggled to keep up. Dodinal saw no point in hurrying; they might as well conserve their strength. Emlyn must have felt the same way, for he walked at a steady gait alongside him. “Do you think he will be all right?” he suddenly asked.
Dodinal did not need to ask who. “He’ll be fine.”
“I wish I could be so sure.” Emlyn tapped the side of his head. “That old man hasn’t quite got a quiver full of arrows.”
“Maybe not. He’s harmless enough, though. He said he would look after Hywel, and I have no reason to doubt him. Mark my words, by the time we get back, Hywel will be too fat to do anything but waddle and we’ll be delirious with hunger.”
“You reckon we’ll be back, then?”
“We’ll be back,” Dodinal assured him.
By the time they had struggled out of the valley, they were gasping for breath and sweating like pack horses. Dodinal stared around tensely. The lake was longer than it was wide, the forest crowding its left bank. Surrounding it was a solid wall of mountains, their bare steep flanks reflected in the water, so that it appeared there was an identical range of hills beneath the surface. At the far end of the lake was a single mighty peak, wide enough at its base to fill the landscape, narrowing as it rose impossibly high above them. Beyond it were more tall peaks, distance rendering them featureless.
“The valley lies beyond that mountain,” the old man said.
“God help us,” someone whispered.
The old man spat on the ground. “God won’t. I will. I know what you’re thinking. Might as well give up and go back.”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” Madoc growled.
“It looks bad, I’ll grant you that. But there’s always a way.”
Emlyn sighed with frustration. “Then take us there.”
The old man shook his head. “I gave you my word I would bring you here and I have; but no further. Too many memories. This is the first time I have stepped foot here since I heard my sister was with my father’s child. I do not intend to stay a moment longer than I have to. Dodinal, you’re the clever one. Step closer. I will tell you the way. Then I will leave you to find the valley without me.”
They gathered around him, watching as he raised his spear to point to the mountain’s left flank. “Continue to the head of the valley. You’ll see an old track leading up. It’s steep, but you’ll manage. Once you get to the top you’ll arrive at a narrow plateau. From there the going gets harder.”
Dodinal listened while the old man continued to talk of cliffs and gullies, but did not really take it in. The words were meaningless. Gerwyn nodded as the old man spoke, hopefully to indicate his understanding rather than out of misguided sense of courtesy.
“Eventually you will have to cross a narrow ridge, between steep cliffs, high above the ground. Even once you have crossed it and are within reach of the summit, you will need to be wary. The going will not be easy underfoot and there are often rock falls. Big ones. I’ve heard them from the village.”
“Sounds easy enough,” Madoc said sourly.
