The Lion's Crown (The Emberlyn Chronicles Book 1), page 8
“For not losing him.”
William briefly bowed his head. He looked up at the towering, leafless trees. “They’re as black as tar. When I saw them from the tower, I thought it might just be a trick of the light.”
“And they grow,” said George. “They bear no leaves or fruit, but they grow notwithstanding.”
William moved cautiously toward the nearest tree. He held out a hand and almost reverently placed his palm against the trunk. When nothing happened, he took the knife from his belt and used it to shave off a bit of the outer bark. Beneath, the tree was still as black as imaginable. He dug a bit deeper, and neither the color nor the consistency of the wood changed. “It’s as though it’s a solid black mass all the way through,” William said.
“We could use the hatchet,” offered Sir Harold.
William shook his head. “No. I don’t want to disturb anything unnecessarily.” He put away his knife then slipped the black shavings into an outer pouch on his pack. He looked back at the others then beyond, across the bog. “I can make out the Fenhold!” he said.
The others turned. Penny had to squint, but sure enough, the tower was visible despite the fog. It seemed so close, but she knew that if they tried to go back to it, it would somehow get farther and farther away. She’d been lucky the day she’d brought Owen back from the edge of the forest.
“Right,” said William. “Nothing left but to go in.” He looked at George and Penny. “Remember, stay a few paces behind until we’re all inside. Best not to go against Morien’s bones and star charts if we don’t have to.”
Penny and George cast him puzzled looks.
“The king’s astrologer. He divined the size of our party by casting bones and stones and things onto star charts.”
George sniffed. “I see why you doubted him. But as you say, best not to go against it, just in case.”
“Stay close. The moment any of you lose sight of the others, stop and yell.” William took a deep breath as though he were about to plunge his head underwater. He stepped past the tree he’d cut into, Owen again at his side, and George and Penny waited for the last of the knights to pass beyond the line of trees before following them in.
“Courage, love,” George whispered into Penny’s ear.
She squeezed his hand and let him lead her across the shadowy threshold of the Hobswood Forest.
Chapter Eleven
Wraith Smoke
After half an hour of slow but steady walking, they started to notice a change. It began with the appearance of tufts of grass and small, desperate-looking plants. But the ground cover grew greener and denser as they went, and eventually the black, leafless trees disappeared. Other trees took their place. They looked to be no different than the oaks, elms and alders of the gentler forests beyond the Hobswood.
Two hours in, there was nothing to be seen to remind them that they were inside the dreaded Hobswood Forest. Three hours in, Sir William brought the party to a halt. “We’ll rest here for a while,” he said. “I think we could all eat something.”
As the knights began bringing breads and cheeses and dried meats out of their bags, Penny did the same. George seems satisfied with a few bites of crusty bread. Penny and Owen’s meal was barely a quarter of the knights’ meals, and as they ate, she saw Sir William watching them.
“I did account for the additional provisions we would need,” he said eventually. “This morning, I tasked your alderman with finding enough food for all of us.” He held a round roll out to her.
Penny took it, broke it into three pieces then handed one piece to Owen, one to George and set the last down with what remained of her ration. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
William nodded. “But there’s enough for each of you to have an entire roll.”
Penny shook her head. “This will do.”
“We have rations enough for ten days,” Sir William continued. “It was my hope we might find some game to hunt if we decide to continue beyond that.”
“Do you mean,” said George, “that we might turn back for home after five days?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. I will make that decision when the time comes. I must return to my king with something of value, after all. If, after five days, we see nothing of interest, I cannot go back and tell His Majesty that. If, however, we find something sufficiently wondrous….” He let the thought trail off. “George,” he said at last, “I do not want you or Penny… or any of us… to have any expectations. So far this forest seems unremarkable—safe, even. But many men have disappeared in the Hobswood. There is a reason for that. Even if we do decide to turn back in five days’ time, there is no guarantee we will make it back. Perhaps the forest will befuddle us the way the bog did. Perhaps we’ll travel for days and days and never be able to find a way out.”
No one responded to this remark. They ate in silence, and twenty minutes later, William stood. “Onward,” he said.
The forest grew denser the farther in they went, but still there was nothing unusual to be seen. They saw birds and squirrels and rabbits, all apparently normal. When the sky began to darken, they decided to search for a good place to camp. They found a large boulder rising up out of the ground at the edge of a ravine. It would guard one side of the camp, so they went about gathering wood for a fire and setting out their bedrolls.
When night finally came, it was deeper and darker than any night Penny had ever known. They could see the stars overhead, but they seemed far away. Even the Fire Star, normally so bright and clear, seemed dim.
“Do you suppose,” Sir Stephen said quietly as he looked up at the sky, “that the fog we encountered in the bog is here as well?”
Penny followed his gaze. “It’s not fog,” she said, “but something is changing the sky. It’s as though….” She let out a little sigh.
“Yes?” William prompted.
“It’s as though we’re looking at the sky through a veil. The Bleaklands and the black trees border this wood on the ground. Maybe something also borders it up above.”
George nodded and put his hand on the small of her back. “You’re right,” he said, looking up. “It’s like a veil. We didn’t notice it during the day because the sun shines too brightly.”
Sir William let out a puzzled grunt. He reached forward to stoke the fire but paused. He was looking beyond it and beyond Sir Alfred, who was sitting opposite him. “A lurking shadow,” he whispered. “The wraith!”
Everyone but Owen sprang to their feet. Swords were drawn, but William was at the pile of packs. He pulled out the torches and tossed them to the others. They lit the torches in the fire, but before anyone could act, the dark shape swept toward them. Sir Alfred yelled out as it whipped by him, but his torch was already lit. He lashed out, and the flame licked at the edge of the shadow.
A scream like wind rushing through a cavern pierced their ears. The wraith dashed past them and up onto the boulder. It glided across the rock and down into the ravine beyond.
The four knights stood with their torches held aloft, facing the boulder. George armed himself with a brand from the fire and pushed Penny and Owen back behind him.
“If we can’t kill it,” Sir William said grimly, “then we can’t sleep. It could return at any time during the night.”
They spread out in a circle around the fire and stood silently, watching and waiting. Minutes passed without anything happening, but the second their guard began to slack, the thing rushed out from the trees on one side of their camp. Again it charged by them, seemingly trying to graze them without getting caught by one of the torches. But as it whipped past George, he flung his burning stick toward it. The brand hit the wraith squarely and passed through it, but another chilling scream told them it had been injured. It sped around the camp in a circle, making quick, jerky advances ever few seconds. Sir Stephen cried out as it touched his leg, but he was able to graze it with his torch before it could dart away again. He fell to one knee but he kept his torch at the ready as he rubbed his calf where the wraith had stung him.
Again and again, the wraith tried to graze them, and even though Harold, George and William each also suffered the thing’s touch, they were able to retaliate every time.
The wraith’s dizzying rush began to slow, and as it made one final advance toward Sir William, he brought his torch down like a headsman’s axe.
The burning end of the torch seemed to pin the wraith to the ground, and as it flailed, William took several more stinging touches before it finally fell still.
William collapsed onto the ground next to the wraith. His forehead was glistening with sweat, and his face was twisted in agony.
“Is it dead?” Harold called, hobbling over.
William poked at the wraith with his torch. It didn’t flinch. “I believe so.”
They all gathered around the thing for a better look. Its edges were indistinct, but the body was roughly diamond shaped. A wispy tail trailed behind it, but they couldn’t make out any eyes, mouth or limbs. Without it moving, it was almost impossible to see. It was a shadow on the ground, nothing more, and Penny had to fight an impulse to look around for the real creature that was casting that shadow.
As they studied it, the wraith began to thin. The shadow grew lighter, and a moment later it dissipated as a breeze blew across the camp. It drifted away like smoke, and they were left staring at an empty patch of ground.
“By the lion’s tail,” Sir Alfred muttered.
Sir Stephen turned away and looked into the dark forest. “Do you suppose this is the same one that attacked us at the village?”
William shrugged. “That wraith did escape across the bog.”
“But how many of them could there be?” Stephen asked. “The forest could be thick with them for all we know.”
“Sir William?” George said.
“Yes?”
“Penny and I have lived on the edge of the Bleaklands all our lives. If there were many such things, I believe they would be encountered much more often. Until the recent attacks at the village, wraiths were only known from ancient stories.”
William stood up from his kneeling position. “I hope you’re right. Still, there are six of us who can stand watch. Two of us will be on guard at all times. I will stand the first watch with… Penny.”
The others mumbled their agreement and rounded the fire back to the bedrolls lined up along the base of the boulder. George gave Penny a light kiss before he left, and she blushed as she glanced over at Sir William.
William extinguished the torches with a thick cone of stiff leather but kept them nearby, ready to be relit. He sat down on the side of the fire opposite the boulder. “Back to back,” he said to Penny. “We can lean against one another so we don’t get too many aches.”
She sat behind him, facing away. “Why not just lean against a pack?”
“This way one of us will know if the other begins to fall asleep. And since we can feel each other moving, that will help keep us alert.”
Penny felt strange with Sir William’s back pressed against hers, but after a few minutes her discomfort subsided. The warmth was reassuring. She felt him fumbling with something, and a moment later it was pressed against her arm.
“Here, take it,” he said.
She reached around and took the object with her other hand. It was Sir William’s knife. She slid it out of the leather scabbard and looked at the blade. “But wraiths aren’t hurt by weapons,” she said.
“No, but wraiths aren’t the only thing to be concerned about.”
She felt stupid for not thinking of that and was glad Sir William wasn’t able to see her blush. “Of course,” she said. She looked across the fire at George. “Sir William, why did you choose me to keep watch with you?”
“I wanted to speak with you.”
“What about?”
She heard William take a breath. “I wanted to say that I am sorry.”
“Sorry?”
“For forcing Owen to come with us. Only I had my king’s order….”
“I know.”
“And we must be able to rely on one another, yes?”
“Yes.”
“So I hope we can be friends. Neither you nor George has done or said anything to concern me, but I do have to be able to trust you both. With my life. If there is any resentment, I hope you’d let me know now. We could talk it over and come to an understanding.”
Penny leaned her head back to look at the sky but straightened her neck again as the back of her head pressed against William’s. “Perhaps you won’t understand this,” she said, “but people like us… George and me… we’re used to having no say in what happens to us. The lord who owns our village is a good man, and for that we are fortunate, but we must still obey him without question. So when you, a knight, comes and says something must be done… well, it must be done.”
“I do not want you to see me like that,” William said quietly. “And my life is no different, whatever you may think. When my king commands me to do something, I must do it. My life is not my own either.”
“But you, in turn, can command others. Even your fellow knights must follow your orders, as you’ve been put in charge by the king. I command no one.”
“Owen does what you tell him.”
“That’s not the same. He’s older than me and a man. If he were normal….” She let the thought go.
“I understand,” he said. “And I am sorry. Please don’t see me as the one who commands you. Let us be friends.”
“Friends,” Penny said. She looked left then right, scanning what could be seen in the ring of light cast by the fire. “Do you have a wife?” she asked.
“No.”
“A sweetheart?”
“No,” he said, but there was hesitation in his voice.
Penny smiled. “I believe you’re being dishonest with me.”
William sighed. “There was a woman at Granisle Castle, but she wasn’t a sweetheart in the traditional sense.”
“I think I understand. She was… a lover?”
“Why are you asking me these things?”
“Because we are to be friends.”
William let out a small laugh. “Very well, then. Yes, a lover. We spent one night together before I left.”
“Did you love her?”
There was a long pause. “It may seem foolish,” he said, whispering, “but yes. I think that perhaps I did love her. If we survive the Hobswood, I’d like to return to her, but it wouldn’t be possible.”
“Why not?”
“She was the king’s concubine.”
Penny gasped. “Sir William!”
He laughed again. “I know. I might have lost my head if we’d been found out. It was foolish, and it was dangerous, but that’s the way with such things.”
“If we do leave the Hobswood,” Penny said, “I hope you can return to her.”
“Thank you.” William adjusted his position. “We should be quiet now. The others will want to sleep.”
Penny fell silent, holding Sir William’s knife in her hand and watching the woods. She felt safer than she should have, and it wasn’t just the closeness of Sir William. He had shared a secret with her, probably against his better judgement. He was not saying he wanted to be friends only to keep her in line. He meant it. He was an honorable man, and that in and of itself was more comforting than the warmth of his back pressed against hers.
In the space of a few minutes, she’d found herself fond of Sir William. She felt a twinge of guilt as she thought of George lying in his bedroll a few feet away. They had been talking very softly, and she doubted any of the others could have made out exactly what they were saying. If George asked, she wouldn’t disclose the details of their conversation. Sir William’s secret would be safe with her.
Chapter Twelve
The Motley Meadow
Morning came far too soon for everyone in the party. Even those who hadn’t been touched by the wraith were sore and stiff. None of them, it turned out, had been able to get much sleep. As Sir William lifted his pack onto his back, he looked over at Penny, who was sitting talking quietly to her brother. She looked up and smiled.
William smiled back, but his face grew serious as he turned away. He’d been too candid with her during their watch. He couldn’t say why he’d felt compelled to tell her what he had, and he didn’t believe any harm would come from it, but he’d been too familiar. As he took up his stick, his mood changed again. So what if he had been familiar? This was the Hobswood, and they might never return to Emberlyn. Matters of rank and class were meaningless here. He glanced at Penny again and couldn’t help but return the smile to his lips. Despite himself, he felt a twinge of desire. George was looking at him when he turned to see that the others were ready to leave the camp.
“All right, George?” he said.
George nodded. “All right, Sir William.”
The morning was clear and cool; significantly cooler, in fact, that it had been the previous morning out on the bog. As they began walking, William wondered if that meant anything in particular. It was summer in the outside world, and they hadn’t packed for cold weather. But there were signs of larger animals. If it became essential, they could hunt for food and skins.
The air did warm up as the day progressed, but the chill never entirely left the air, even when they stopped to rest and eat around noon. It seemed to come in waves, carried on the wind.
“Damned cold,” Sir Stephen grumbled.
William nodded. So the others had noticed it, too. “It didn’t seem so cold during the night. It only started this morning.”
“Some kind of enchantment?” Harold said.
William grunted. “Or weather here in the wood doesn’t follow the same pattern we’re used to.”
As he dug into his pack for his rations, Penny let out a cry of surprise. “Look!” She was staring up into the sky and holding out her hands.
William looked up; tiny white flakes of snow were falling from a cloudless sky. A breeze had kicked up, and William had a thought. “Are they coming from the sky,” he said, “or…?” He got up and began walking into the wind. The snow increased, and he heard the others following behind him. A rise was ahead, and he could now see flurries of snow rising up over the hill from somewhere beyond. He crested the hill and stopped.
