“I am sure I can. I have a good memory.”
“You would lead us, show us the way?”
“Honored sir,” said Scratch, “I owe you a debt I had never hoped I could repay. Showing you across the fen would be only partial payment. But if you would accept…”
“We do accept,” said Duncan. “If events so order themselves…”
“Events?”
“It may be the main Horde of Harriers will block our way. They are moving up the west bank of the fen. If they should continue moving north, as they were when last seen, then, with your help, we can cross the fen and be clear of them.”
“There is one thing else.”
“Yes?”
“At the western edge of the fen stands a massive island, much larger than the others. It is guarded by dragons.”
“Why dragons?”
“The island,” said Scratch, “is a wailing place. The Place of Wailing for the World.”
26
Diane, Meg, and Nan were sitting together by the fire, a little apart from the others, when Duncan returned, trailed by the limping, lurching Scratch. A short distance off, Andrew was stretched out on the ground, covered by a sheepskin, fast asleep and snoring. A long, slender fold of black velvet lay on Diane’s lap.
Meg cackled at Duncan. “You should see what Diane has. You should see what Snoopy gave her.”
She gestured at the fold of velvet.
Duncan turned to look at Diane. Her eyes were sparkling in the firelight and she smiled at him. Carefully she unfolded the velvet to reveal what lay within it.
The naked blade shone with a hundred fiery highlights and a nest of inset jewels glinted in the hilt.
“I told him,” she said, “that it was too magnificent for me, but he insisted that I take it.”
“It is splendid,” Duncan said.
“The goblins have guarded it for years,” said Nan, “as a sacred treasure. Never, in their wildest dreams, did they ever think they’d find a human they would want to give it to.” She shrugged. “Of course it is far too massive for a goblin or any other of our kind to ever think of wielding.”
Duncan went down on his knees in front of Diane, reached out to touch the blade.
“May I?” he asked.
She nodded at him.
The steel beneath his fingers was cold and smooth. He ran his fingers along its length in something that was close to a caress.
“Duncan,” Diane said in a hushed voice, “Duncan, I’m afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“Afraid I know what it is. Snoopy didn’t tell me.”
“Then,” said Duncan, “I don’t think you should ask.”
He picked up one end of the velvet and folded it back to cover the sword.
“Cover it,” he said. “It is a precious thing. It should not be exposed to the damp night air. Snug it safe and tight.”
He said to Meg, “There is something I should ask you. Some days ago you told us about the wailing for the world. You told us very little. Can you tell us more of it?”
“No more than I told you then, my lord. We spoke of it when we heard the keening from the fen.”
“You said there were several such wailing places, probably widely separated. You seemed to think one of the wailing places was located in the fen.”
“So it has been told.”
“Who is it that does the wailing?”
“Women, my lord. Who else would wail in this world of ours? It is the women who have cause for wailing.”
“Do you have a name for these wailing women?”
Meg wrinkled up her face, trying to remember. “I believe there is a name for them, my lord, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard it.”
“And you,” Duncan said to Nan. “You banshees are wailers.”
“Wailers, yes,” said Nan, “but not for the entire world. We have trouble enough to wail for those who need it most.”
“Perhaps the entire world stands in need of wailing, of a crying out against its misery.”
“You may be right,” the banshee told him, “but we wail at home, on the land we know, for the widow left alone, for the hungry children, for the needy old, for those bereft by death. There is so much to wail over that we can take care of only those we know. We crouch outside the lonely cottage that is overrun by grief and need and we cry out against those who have occasioned the grief and need and we…”
“Yes, I understand,” said Duncan. “You know nothing of the wailing for the world?”
“Only what the witch has told you.”
A soft step sounded behind Duncan, someone moving lightly. “What is this about the wailing?” Snoopy asked. Duncan swiveled around to face the approaching goblin. “The demon says there is a wailing in the fen.”
“The demon’s right,” the goblin said. “I have heard it often. But what has that to do with us?”
“Scratch tells me the fen can be crossed. He claims he knows the way.”
Snoopy puckered up his face. “I doubt that,” he said. “It has always been told the fen is impassable.”
“But you do not know for sure?”
“I do not know for sure. No one has ever been fool enough to try. No one ever puts a boat upon its waters, for there are lurking dangers there that rise up to seize one.”
“Then,” said Duncan, “look upon a fool. I am about to try.”
“You’ll be swallowed up,” said Snoopy.
“We’ll be swallowed up in any case. You say the Horde pens us in. That leaves the fen the only way to go.”
“With the main body of the Horde on the western shore?”
“You told me Ghost had reported they were moving north. If they continue to move north, if they move far enough to the north, the way will be clear.”
“The ones surrounding us are beginning to move in,” said Snoopy. “A closing of the net. There is some movement from the east. They’ve tripped some of our magic traps.”
“Then all the more reason,” said Duncan, “for trying the fen. And as quickly as we can.”
“If the forces surrounding us know that you are here, and most certainly they must for otherwise there would be no movement, then surely the main body on the fen’s western bank also must know.”
“But the Horde on the western bank can have no idea we will try to cross the fen.”
Snoopy threw up his hands in disgust. “Go on,” he growled. “Do what you wish. You will in any case. You do not listen to me. You have never listened to me.”
“I’m sorry,” Duncan said. “You offer no alternatives. The fen does offer an alternative. I have decided I will go. The demon will go with me to point the way. Conrad, I am sure, will come along.”
“And so will I,” Diane said softly. She said to Snoopy, “You spoke of buckskins for me. When will they be ready? I cannot essay the fen in such dress as this.”
“By first morning light,” said Snoopy. “Our people have been working all the night.”
“We can’t leave by morning light,” said Duncan, “although I would like to. Before we leave a search for the griffin must be made.”
“There has been searching in the night,” said Snoopy. “He has not been found. At the first hint of dawn the area will be swept again. We have slight hope of finding him. He was tied too closely for too long to the wizards and the castle. He was old and worn out with long service and may not have wished to survive the castle. It is unlikely he would have survived with the final wizard gone. Milady, I think, shares our beliefs.”
“Yes, I do,” said Diane. “But without Hubert I still will go.”
“You could ride Daniel,” Duncan said.
“No. Daniel is your horse. He’s too accomplished a war-horse to be hindered by a rider save that he and the rider fight as one. In all the encounters on this journey you have never ridden him. The two of you have fought side by side. That is as it should be.”
“I will go with you,” said Nan. “The fen holds no terrors for me, since I can fly above it, although haltingly and with no grace at all, flapping like a crow. Perhaps I can be of some help in spying out the land.”
“And since I started this adventure with you,” Snoopy said, “you cannot leave me out.”
“There is no need,” said Duncan. “You have little faith in what is proposed and certainly you should stay here to direct your people.”
“There is no need of my direction,” Snoopy told him. “In truth, I never have directed them. I simply sent out a call for their gathering. And they came, as if to a picnic, for the adventure they might find. But they are not ones who will face up to great danger. Rather, being wise people, all of them, they run from danger. To tell the honest truth, they’re beginning to scatter now. By the time you are gone, they will be as well.”