It transpired, as I told them what little I believed Anluan would think it reasonable for me to tell, that very few people in the village had ever seen him in the flesh.There were some young folk who had done a day or two of work up on the Tor before they fled in fright, Orna said, and some old folk who recalled seeing Anluan as a child, but Orna,Tomas and Sionnach had never clapped eyes on him, and neither had any of their friends.
“So he never comes down here,” I said. “Not at all.”
“Not at all. We see Magnus. Sometimes we run into the fellow with the dog, a curse on the two of them. But not
“Anluan’s an ordinary man,” I said, realizing as I did so that this was an inadequate description. “He has a slight physical deformity, but it does not make him a monster. He is a little—well, he has a tendency to lose his temper rather easily. But he’s no freak. I think he has the makings of a good chieftain, but . . . there are some difficulties. I don’t see much of him. I work on my own most of the time.” I felt a sudden sense of disloyalty; it would be wrong to talk too much, to expose more of the wounds that lay on Anluan and his loyal retainers. Somewhere in my mind was the big question, the question of
They were only too happy to oblige. Orna got out her sewing box and Sionnach ran next door to fetch hers. A lively discussion of hemming methods ensued, during which I managed to insert some careful questions about recent visitors to the settlement, and whether anyone might have been asking about a young woman traveling on her own. The reply was not unexpected: that nobody came to Whistling Tor. It must be somewhat of an exaggeration. Certain supplies would have to be brought in, and certain goods must go out, accompanied by people to convey them. But there was no reason for Orna to lie about this. She and Tomas knew I did not want to be found, and as innkeepers they would be more aware than most of any comings and goings in the district. “Though there have been some rumors,” she added darkly. “They say the Normans are getting closer. A troop of them was seen riding on Silverlake lands.There’s talk they might press on right into this region. Sets a chill in the bones, doesn’t it? Who’d stand up for us if they came?”
Probably thanks to my presence, Magnus was eventually invited inside the inn, where he and Tomas, with a couple of other men, sat with us women over ale and oatcakes. I noticed how skillful Magnus was at extracting information without quite asking for it. By the time we got up to leave, he had discovered the name of the Norman lord whose warriors had been seen at Silverlake—Stephen de Courcy—that there had been twelve men in the party, and that Tomas’s informant had been a monk from Saint Crio dan’s, where the Normans had stopped to say prayers and ask for directions. There had been no formal visit to Fergal, chieftain of Silverlake; not yet.
As we were leaving the inn, Orna took my sleeve and held me back while the men went on ahead.“Are you sure you want to go back up there, Caitrin?” she murmured. “What about those . . . things?”
I saw the fear in her eyes, and the amazement that I would choose to return to the Tor of my own free will in the face of such abominations. “I’ve seen very little,” I told her. “Perhaps it’s not as bad as you think. On the way up I did hear some voices, it’s true. And this morning I kept imagining I saw folk in the woods. But I’ve seen no evidence of a . . . host. Nothing truly fearsome.”
“They’re fearsome all right. I’d say ask my grandmother, but she’s gone now. They’re not just wild tales, those accounts of folk ripped limb from limb and whole villages laid waste.They’re all true. Just because you haven’t seen it for yourself, that doesn’t make it any less real. I don’t know how you can be so cool and calm about it.”
I thought of Conan’s records, the misguided attempt to use the host in battle, the despair over the future of his people and his family. “I’m not doubting you, Orna. I’ve been told that Anluan will keep me safe.”
Orna shook her head, lips tight. “Anluan, eh? And how will his lordship do that, with his weak arm and his twisted leg? There’s only one way a man like that can protect you, Caitrin, and that’s by sorcery. Everyone knows what Nechtan was. This is his kin; this is a man not to be trusted. Be careful, that’s all I’m saying. If you wanted to stay here with us, we’d fit you in somewhere.You don’t have to go back up there.”
