The Traveller's Path

Chapter 3

Celyn squinted through the gathering twilight, seeking for the lights of the holding. He hoped not to spend the night outside if he could help it. He and Tynan were already soaked to the bone, and the rain showed no signs of stopping.

“This holding ye tell of,” Tynan said. “Are we close, do ye guess? The rain is getting worse.” Weariness shadowed his face, matching the same exhaustion Celyn felt. They had been on the road for hours, searching with no success for news of Nona and the arm.

“It cannot be much further. But as to that, I’ve not been here myself, only heard tell of it.”

Tynan grunted. He hadn’t been keen to go to this remote holding. Celyn didn’t blame him. The stories of Thunor One-Eyed had spread far and wide, and not all of them good.

But there was no better source of information about travellers on this road. Thunor might know something about the stolen arm or Nona’s disappearance.

If so, it would be their first good lead. He suppressed his frustration with an effort. The search around Bebbanburg did not yield any sign of the relic. Once they and the rest of the men returned, Oswy ordered them to prepare to go to Eoforwic, hoping to catch Oswine on the road as he travelled north towards Yeavering for the witenagemot.

Tynan and Bronwyn had arrived during Celyn’s preparations to leave. Anger and fear assailed him again at the recollection of the Dál Riatan’s tale. Nona’s disappearance had to be linked to the theft of the arm. Wulfram must have directed both.

Celyn tried to dissuade the king from riding out to meet Oswine, but to no avail. Oswy insisted Oswine had sent his men to steal the arm, and no argument against that belief would shake him out of it. He had no patience for words of caution.

Both Oswy and several others reported tales of Deirians in Bebbanburg. Others heard of men spotted going south, either last night or early in the morning. But pressing the men on these rumours did not glean any details, just a strangely stubborn certainty of the tale.

Celyn shifted on his saddle, disturbed again by the thought of the odd light in Oswy’s eyes when he questioned the king about these reports. The work of the tylwyth teg and no mistake, he mused. The king and his men had come under an evil influence to make them believe these accounts.

At least Oswy permitted him to search for Nona instead of accompanying him and the other men. Celyn couldn’t help but wonder if that was part of the reason Wulfram had seized both Nona and the arm. To separate Celyn from Oswy, and to take the king and his warriors away from Bebbanburg.

He sighed. There was no point in speculating. For now, he had to focus on finding the holding or risk bedding down under whatever scanty cover they might find.

That might be as God willed, depending on their welcome. He set aside his gloomy thoughts and peered ahead through the trees. Relief flooded over him as he spotted a glinting light in the distance, obscured at once by the wind-tossed branches.

“There it is!” Tynan pointed ahead at the light.

“Aye. We’ll have a place to sleep inside, God willing.”

The Dál Riatan’s blew out a breath. “Thank God for His mercy. I didna wish to spend the night in the open, where any might find us.” Fear flashed in his eyes. “Those dreams,” he added, his voice low. “They were like ale to a thirsty man that only made ye thirsty again. But in a new way, like ye had never had ale before…” He lapsed into silence, his eyes haunted. Frustrated longing filled his face.

Fear trickled down Celyn’s spine. “As to that, ’tis best not to speak of it now,” he said, gesturing at the growing shadows. As he now knew, the tylwyth teg did not need the open doors between the worlds at Solstice to walk among them. He had no wish to gain their attention.

St. Michael, guide my arm. Celyn pushed away his fears and urged Arawn on towards the holding.

The path took them through a winding valley amongst shrouded hills empty of human habitation. They spotted goats scampering away from them and heard the thin cry of a hawk far above, but saw no other signs of life. The wind gusted around them in erratic bursts that drove the steady rain into their faces.

A brooding, dreary place. Celyn was glad they would shelter indoors that night. They soon came to a knot of trees which stood sentinel around a cluster of buildings. Smoke drew upwards from the roofs of the buildings, and chickens roosted in the trees. Dogs barked, rushing towards them on stiff legs as they turned their horses’ heads down the path towards the settlement.

There was no sign of people. That was not surprising, given the weather, but Celyn’s warrior instincts screamed danger. He exchanged a glance with Tynan and saw the same unease reflected in his eyes.

A flickering shadow caused him to haul on Arawn’s reins, and the stallion reared up with a protesting whinny just as an arrow thudded to the ground in front of them.

“That’s far enough, now, my lord, if ye please!”

Celyn drew his sword, whirling Arawn around to find the speaker. Tynan, too, drew his sword as his horse pranced underneath him.

The archer was up in the spreading branches of a large oak tree. The leaves hid him from view but for the bow that held another arrow aimed at Celyn’s heart. “We be a peaceful people here and want no trouble. Ye be on your way, now.” The voice was firm but not hostile.

Celyn looked over at Tynan and nodded before sheathing his sword. Tynan grimaced, but followed suit.

“Look you,” Celyn said, speaking loudly enough to reach any others hidden around the holding. “We come in Oswy’s name, the king for whom you hold these lands. We do not come bringing harm. Come down from there, Thunor One-Eyed, and tell us why you greet us in such a manner.”

The arrow did not waver. “Ye are from Bebbanburg? What brings ye here, then?”

“This morn the arm of the blessed King Oswald was stolen from Bebbanburg’s church. My cousin, the Lady Nona, was taken by force near Bebbenburg later in the day by unknown men. We are seeking her and news of the arm. You have no fear of us, unless you have a part in these deeds.”

“The Lady Nona?” A young woman stepped out from her hiding place behind a building. She put her knife into the holder on her belt and addressed the archer. “Thunor, put down your bow! These men haven’t come to harm us."

“Know that for certain, do ye?”

The woman made an impatient gesture. “The Lady Nona came when Aethel had the pox! Do ye not remember? She were kind—”

“Enough, Glytha! I remember well! But how do we know this man tells the truth?”

“Do not be foolish, husband! He has the tongue of the wealas, as did the Lady Nona.” The woman turned to Celyn, her eyes troubled. “The Lady was taken, did ye say?”

Celyn nodded. “Aye. Near Bebbanburg. We seek to find her before she comes to harm. I know you keep watch on the road for the king, and so seek any news you may have.”

“I understand.” She glanced up at the tree. “Do come down, husband. These are the king’s men.”

The bow lowered and, with a rustle of branches, a young man dropped from the tree, eyeing them with hostility. He had black hair and a stubble of a beard. He would have been handsome but for a long scar marring one side of his face. It ran from his chin, across his cheek, and disappeared under an eye patch that covered his left eye. The scar continued up his temple, disappearing behind the hair that hung over his forehead. “And who are ye, then? I’ll have your name, if ye please,” he said in a growl.

“I am the Lord Celyn, of Bebbanburg, and this is Tynan, who serves Lord Conaire mac Alpin of Dál Riata, the Lady Nona’s husband.”

“Ye pledge to Oswy, king of Bernicia, then?”

”As to that, I would think it obvious,” Celyn said with asperity, growing tired of the other man’s suspicion. “I have said we were from Bebbanburg and told you our errand. Now either welcome us in or allow us to go on our way without the threat of an arrow in our backs so that we might find more hospitable shelter elsewhere.”

“There’s no need for you to depart,” Glytha said. She looked at Thunor in entreaty. “The Lord Celyn is right. ’Tis a poor welcome we are giving them, and this the Lady Nona’s cousin!” She turned to them. “I am sorry, my lords.” She bobbed a small curtsey. “Earlier this day, a band of armed men on horseback rode past here. My husband did not like the look of them, see. We were afeared ye may be more of the same.”

“Men?” Celyn sat up straighter, his weariness forgotten. “Tell me of these men!”

The man scowled, casting a dark glare at the sky as the rain spattered down. “Ye best come down off your mounts and come inside.” He turned to the small settlement. “Brun! Bosa! Come see to the horses! It be safe!” There was no response, so he pitched his voice louder. “Come then, all of ye!”

Two youths came out from behind a shed. One carried an axe, the other a sturdy stick. Other than that, they were exactly alike; identical twins. Tynan crossed himself and made the sign against evil surreptitiously as they approached.

But the one-eyed man noticed, and his face darkened even more. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then shook his head and spun on his heel, marching towards the largest building. He yanked the door open and stalked inside, the door clattering shut behind him.

A wizened old man came around the corner of another building, followed by a small grubby girl and a young woman. She held a long, sharpened stick, and a baby nestled in a sling against her. A swirling pattern beginning on her hand and disappearing under her sleeve marked her as one of the Picts. A few more people appeared, slipping out from their hiding places among the buildings, all carrying rudimentary weapons, all with suspicion written on their faces. And none of them, Celyn noticed, were whole. A youth with a twisted leg walked with the aid of a stick, and another had a missing hand—a thief, by the looks of his shifty eyes. An older man joined them, twitching like he was being stung by bees.

Tynan took in this odd assortment of people and glanced at Celyn, his eyebrows raised in a silent question. Leave or stay?

It was a strange crowd, but it was nearly dark and the downpour gave no hint of stopping. Besides, they needed more information about the armed men. Celyn shrugged at the other man and dismounted, leaning against Arawn as he stretched his legs and adjusted to standing after the day’s ride.

“Oh, he’s a big ’un, m’lord!” One twin stood at a respectful distance, eyeing Arawn with open admiration. The stallion responded with a snort, pawing the ground. He was as eager to be rid of Celyn and his saddle as Celyn was to be done with riding. He patted the horse’s neck, feeling Arawn’s muscles quiver under his hand.

“Softly,” he murmured to the horse. “None of your wicked ways.” He glanced at the boy. “Look you. Come over here and let him get your scent.”

The boy inched closer, his eyes wide, coming to a halt close enough for Arawn to stretch out his neck and nose at him. After a moment, the stallion blew through his big nostrils and nickered, stomping a foot as the boy’s twin took Tynan’s horse and led him towards the barn.

Celyn handed him the reins. “Take him, lad, and rub him down. But be careful. He has a quick temper, but it looks like he’ll put up with you.”

The boy nodded, eager. He clicked his tongue and followed his twin, looking up at the horse as if for approval. Arawn walked into the barn with him as if he were a docile mare and not a seasoned warhorse.

Celyn shook his head, mystified. He didn’t understand why Arawn would occasionally allow someone to handle him without giving them difficulty, when most of the time he was an ill-mannered beast.

The other people followed their leader into the hall, leaving him and Tynan alone.

“I dinna like this place, my lord.” Tynan looked around, his lips tightening. “A den of thieves, or worse, I reckon.”

”As to that, I am not sure. But either way, we need to hear more about the band of men they saw.”

“Aye, if they are not lying, to fool us into trusting them.” Fear tightened the other man’s eyes as he gazed at the settlement.

Celyn clapped him on the shoulder. “The good Christ is with us. Have no fear. These are not the sidhe. Thunor One-Eyed has lived here for many years. I know of him from the king. We must be wary, but I do not think they will harm us.”

Tynan frowned. A sudden gust of wind blew a cold splat of rain against them, and he eyed the worsening weather with resignation. “I suppose ye are right, my lord.”

Another gust got them moving towards the main hall. Celyn was grateful they would not have to shelter outside, but despite his confident words to Tynan, he would keep his sword handy, just in case.