the old dark times of the past have returned. It will not take long for the ancient ones to recall their ancient ways. Changelings will again appear in cradles. Crops and livestock will again be hexed, the fairy rings will abduct the young and the trusting. Worse things, too, such as the Shining Lady and the Wild Hunt will come.”
“But why me?” asked Brand in exasperation.
“I’m not sure on this point. I do know that Myrrdin has always thought very highly of your clan. I know too, that among his captains of old, some of his greatest champions were known by the name Rabing.”
“You mean our ancestors were important?” asked Corbin.
“Of course,” said Gudrin. “Did you not all hear my tale? You are all descendants of Myrrdin’s original army. Clearly, the Enemy recalls the name Rabing from those days.”
“So my clan is being pursued for something heroic done by our forbearers? Something which we can’t even remember?”
Gudrin nodded. “Recall that for Herla, each year is as a day, until the bloodhound alights. The point is that Brand’s leaving will not return the River Haven to peace. It will only distract the Dark Ones that are charged with hunting him. The only thing that will bring peace will be the recovery of the Pact. Or the forging of a new one.”
“So we should all go, to help you, our friends among the Kindred, to find Myrrdin,” said Corbin. “Too bad Jak is injured. We could use his hand on the skiff’s tiller.”
“Someone must manage Rabing Isle,” said Brand. He stood and faced them all. For the first time he noticed that Modi was there too, off among the trees, listening to their talk. It seemed that everyone was in on this. “Okay, I know when I’m beaten. If I were to try to go alone, you would find some way to stow away or follow in another boat, I know you too well. But I say this! We must all have Tylag’s blessing, for he is the leader of clan Rabing and he may have need of us.”
They all agreed to this and went to consult with Tylag. Tylag was distraught by the loss of his home, but he listened to them seriously. Barlo snorted in disbelief once as they told their tale, but his father silenced him with a scowl.
“So you have decided to leave in search of Myrrdin. I see that I have lost a son, and now must risk another. Where will you go?” asked Tylag.
At this, they were at a loss. Gudrin stepped forward. “I think we will follow the river north into the Deepwood and on toward Snowdon. Last I heard he was in that region.”
“It seems an opportune moment to say that we, the Riverton Council, finally received word from Myrrdin last night,” said Tylag. “News of my son’s death has driven the thought from my head until now.”
“Myrrdin lives?” said Brand. “This is good news indeed.”
“Where is he?” demanded Gudrin.
“A messenger came from the village of North End. Myrrdin wandered out of the High Marshes two nights ago, on the eve of the Harvest Moon, in fact. He had been waylaid, lost his horse, and was on foot. He had not eaten or slept in weeks, but still attempted to gain passage to Riverton. He did intend to reach Stone Island and perform the ceremony, but he was too late. The village hetman convinced him that he would not arrive until the day after the ceremony. Once he realized the truth, the messenger says he collapsed in their arms and had to be borne away to rest.”
“Is he injured?” asked Brand.
Tylag shook his head. “We don’t know.”
“We must go and consult with him,” said Gudrin. “We must leave before dark tonight.”
“I give my blessing to your journey. The River Haven would be better served by learning all there is to be learned from Myrrdin than by a few extra bowmen in the militia,” said Tylag. “May the River guide your boat.”
Brand had one more person to consult: Jak. He went to the wagon, where Jak had been stretched out in the shade. He was still far too injured to help them.
“Hello,
Learning to Kill: Stories