and branches collected by the river running along its southern side.
Willard was a man of the forest. Within a quarter hour a fire had been born, and a ring of logs, rocks, and pickets formed into a rude wall against the forest beyond. While they prepared camp, Vahan Lee gathered berries, and when the labor was finished they sat down on the grass to enjoy their repast. Once they had filled themselves, all three leaned back on a log parallel to the river, facing the northern side of the clearing.
“Today has gone strangely for me,” Vahan said.
“Nothing that happens is strange,” answered Willard, “For what is strange but that which does not happen?”
“Still, it is a terrifying place: the labyrinth of a bandit, whose occupation is theft and murder. No one loves this country more than myself – I would never betray nor sell its secrets to a foreign monarch – and it pains me to see such lawlessness.”
Willard laughed at his oddly patriotic companion. “There are worse bandits than Alfonzo. The Fardy brothers left the Inn as I did, but he did not take them, though they had more money than I. Why were you taken, for wealth?”
“No, for they left me my gold,” and Vahan took a bag of coins from his shirt. “Yet I cannot be mistaken for a foreign agent, nor someone who is not native to this great land,” but Vahan’s loud declamations were belied by his louder foreign accent.
“We are free now, and Alfonzo’s intentions – whatever they were – no longer concern us,” Willard answered, then fell silent.
The three enjoyed the scene for a moment, before they were roused by the sound of heavy footsteps passing rapidly through the forest. The air buzzed with the tramping of a dozen men, and the three companions jumped to their feet just as the first of them entered the far end of the clearing. The light was beginning to fade, and in the twilight the newcomer’s faces could only barely be seen. Yet as soon as Willard saw them and they saw Willard, both came to a halt, struck over the head with amazement.
“The devil!” Willard cried, “How can this be? Rouse yourself, Horatio, for it appears we have a fight on our hands!”
Chapter 6
The part of the cavern in which the prisoners were kept was uncouth and roughly equipped. The deeper interior sections, however, were welcoming: lit and heated by fires growing from small indents the rangers had carved into the sides of the natural cavern, with narrow vents channeling the smoke to the air above. Off the main tunnels were smaller caves or rooms, where the individual rangers made their homes. These were provided with couches and tables, so the life of the forest men was to some extent civilized.
These things were furnished through moral means, not from that which was taken from the travelers whom they captured or robbed. Alfonzo’s bandits differed from the others in this respect: they were supported by the labor of their own hands, not by that which they plundered from others. The caverns were rich with iron ore, and the bandits used this natural resource to create all types of weapons and armor: all other blacksmiths lived in the city under the control of Gylain, and those who opposed his tyranny could not arm themselves, but for Alfonzo’s band. Even their forest fortress was crafted by these means, for as they mined into the vast rock that surrounded them, they enlarged and improved the caverns themselves, cultivating the natural defense and shelter with unnatural means. It was thus that they were strong.
They were also uncommonly selective as to which travelers they plundered, and most ordinary citizens passed by without feeling their watchful eyes upon them. More often than not, they protected loyal travelers from bands of outlaws sanctioned by Gylain. Milada of Erlich was a leader of the loyal resistance, the rebellion, and the propagation of the news of his travels through the forest only confirmed what Alfonzo had long been unwilling to accept, that there were traitors among his men.
After he retired from his meeting with Willard, Alfonzo went to his room, the deepest in the caverns, where he sat in reflection for a few moments, stroking his pointed goatee and looking altogether perplexed. There was a knock at the door, but Alfonzo did not seem to hear it. After waiting a moment, the one who had knocked slowly entered the room: a mid-sized man, with well-kept blond hair and thin, contracted lips.
“Blaine, it is well that you have come, I have many questions that need answered,” Alfonzo looked up, showing that he had indeed heard the man’s entrance.
“I have just returned from Eden, yet I bring only more questions. Monice told me that you have taken prisoners, yet I was in too much of a hurry to look at them and passed directly through to you. Are the rumors concerning Milada true?”
“Yes, and one of the prisoners is suspected, on account of Hismoni’s word. But I will not punish him yet, for there is something I do not understand.” Alfonzo was just and would not punish Willard because of rumors or circumstantial evidence. Such was his nature: restrained by his morals from doing any injustice, out of anger or revenge.
“Perhaps it was not him,” assented Blaine, “But there are rumors.”
“What rumors?” asked Alfonzo, knowing Blaine too well to be fooled by his talk of rumors and the opinions of others.
“The men say he is like Willarinus, that he calls himself Willard, and that he carries a royal sword, though clothed as a monk. Is it not possible the boy has survived the forest and the years?” Blaine spoke the last sentence in silence.
“Captured, yes, do not fear the word: I know my faults as well as any man. Willarinus was a strong child, yet he was a child nonetheless. I would jump for joy if it could be so, yet I am wiser than to chase the wind and ask favors of the air.”
“The men think that perhaps we should look into the matter, that if he is not Willarinus himself he may hold an important clue, since he has the royal sword.”
“I mean to, Blaine, but my mind is lost at sea. There are
“There are some who say a man’s worst enemy is himself, Alfonzo; and perhaps second are his men. If there is treason we must find it out, for the situation is growing precarious indeed, and I fear the next few weeks will see us either victorious or ruined.”
“Yes, that is the course,” Alfonzo said, “For these things have long fermented. The end has already been decided, and I fear – through dreams and apprehensions – that it will not turn out as I desire. I see many things, scattered here and there – and yet who knows? Perhaps my worries resurface as I sleep, and I enchant myself once more with thoughts of the future, thoughts which I myself have planted, watered, and harvested.”
“Perhaps, but let us hear these thoughts, for it would not be in vain.”
“Perhaps not, but then vanity is never known until it is possessed. I think of Willarinus, and the night he disappeared; I think of William Stuart, and how he was betrayed; I think of de Casanova, and when he will return to haunt us; I think of the legends and the prophecies, of Atlantis and Eden. But most of all, above these other things, I think of Celestine.”
Blaine hesitated. “I do not envy you your position as the strategist. I think merely of the execution, and am soothed by the thousand little details and questions of action that arise. I can forget the past, and so it does not bother me. But to concentrate on these things? The rumors I have heard, though, are that William will never return, nor de Casanova. As for Celestine, know that she is faithful to you, and that Gylain cannot break her. If men fear those things from jealousy, you need not, and your lot is lessened for it.”
“Yes, but though I do not fear that others enjoy her love, I would rather that I could possess it myself. I do not forget her face or her voice or her mind, nor the feelings which she evoked within me. But I forget, through the years, the calmness of her features and the patience of her heart. I recall their impression upon me, yet not their origins; their effect, yet not their cause.”
“She waits, enduring and hoping all things. Eden is strange at present – the rumors say it is as slow and carefree as ever, on the surface, but agitated beneath. The Floatings are filled with those who would overturn Gylain, and we can expect their help. But only if we have occasion to ask for it.”
“True, dear Blaine,” returned the leader, “When will the Fardy brothers come to us? Did you not speak with them in Eden?”
“They were away on business: they were to be through these parts a few days ago. I am surprised they were not here before me.”
