“You'd better hurry up and jump down. The current is pulling me out.”
“What are you doing here?” demanded Jak gruffly, jumping into the boat and snatching the lines from her hands.
Telyn stood up in the skiff as well and put her hands on her hips. “I'm going with you.”
Jak glowered at her, then shot a look at Brand who was climbing into the mid-section. Corbin followed him. Jak tossed the coiled line down and went to release the stern moorings, throwing up his hands in a gesture of disgust and surrender.
“What's with your brother?” asked Telyn with some concern.
“He's just in a bad mood,” Brand told her, explaining the events at the tavern briefly.
“Well, I'm no Silure, nor am I a Hoot,” Telyn pointed out.
Brand looked at her, suddenly realizing that she might well take offense. He was quick to assure her that it was just his brother's mood.
Telyn nodded and finally smiled at him. This brought a special warm feeling to Brand for the second time that day. “How did you know that we were going back to Rabing Isle?” he asked.
“I hear things,” she said, reaching up and giving his ear a playful tug. “Besides, I'm following on the track of something right now, and I'm not letting go until I learn what it's about. Today, I learned that you are part of it, Brand Rabing.”
Brand nodded, not really knowing what she was talking about, but finding it easy to agree. He could think of no one he would rather have aboard for the journey. The sails were of great use now that the skiff was running high and empty and the afternoon winds were up. They were borne upriver even faster than the current had sent them down.
Chapter Nine
Traveling up the river Brand had a nostalgic, almost melancholy feeling come over him. Everything seemed to be changing, becoming more exciting and more ominous by the day. The seasons were shifting, getting colder rapidly. Even while the sun was still high in the sky, he could feel the chill of the cold night ahead in the wind. He eyed the scudding gray clouds and wondered if it might not snow tonight. It almost never snowed before the Harvest Moon, but anything seemed possible this autumn.
“Everything seems odd to me, Telyn,” he said wistfully. They sat in bow of the skiff, while Jak gripped the tiller and Corbin tended the sails. By silent agreement, his clansmen had arranged for him to be alone with her.
She didn't answer him right away. The skiff's mast creaked and the river bubbled and splashed as the wind pushed the boat against the current. Telyn dangled her fingers in the white foam that curled up the skiff's dark hull.
“Something is definitely wrong,” she agreed finally. She stretched out and Brand was taken by the way her hair fluttered freely in the wind.
They spent much of the trip in quiet conversation, and by the time Rabing Isle hove into view, Brand found that he had sidled close to her and could feel her warmth. He was almost sorry to see the journey end.
“Well,” said Jak, clapping him on the shoulder as they moored the skiff at their home dock in a tiny green-water cove. “At least we've seen nothing more of the shadow man.”
Brand felt a surge of well-being to be home again. The light was failing and the wind was downright cold now, but all of them were smiling. Rabing Isle was a beautiful place, full of good memories for all of them.
They marched up through the apple tree grove to the foot of the only hill on the island. They followed the winding gravel path through the vegetable garden, its leafy green growth fading to brown now with the onset of winter. Corbin carried two weighty rucksacks with him, Brand noticed with a smile. One probably full of games and storybooks and the other doubtless packed with extra food.
“I hope you didn't give up all the year's crop of berrywine to the Offering,” he said in a leading fashion as the heavy log walls came into view between the towering berry bush hedges that surrounded the house.
“No more than the customary one part in seven,” Jak assured him. He gestured toward the winery, where the family press and fermentation tanks were sheltered. “If you wish to inspect our stocks personally…”
Corbin grinned. “Ah, I'm sure that your cellars are more than adequate for my needs.”
Telyn poked him in the side. “I for one have my doubts!”
They all laughed and headed into the house. The house was made of rough-hewn logs with mortar filling the cracks. The windows were all shuttered and the second story wore a steep roof of shingles like a farmer's wide-brimmed hat. The house was impressively large, having been built to hold several families. Four generations ago, it had housed many people, but now most of the rooms were empty and layered in cold dust.
Telyn raced forward to the stairs with a delighted cry. “It has been years since I rode this banister!” she said, gripping the big rounded post at the bottom with a grin. “Remember when I pushed you out of the big yew tree out front Brand?”
Brand tried to look sour. “How could I forget?”
“Perhaps you should chop some fresh wood for the fire, Brand,” suggested Jak in a tone that Brand knew made it an order. This didn’t bother him, however. Jak was the master of the house, and in any case, he was simply glad to be home.
“As I recall, we have two axes,” Brand said, eyeing Corbin.
Corbin grinned and followed him out into the yard. They retrieved the axes from the woodshed and set to work. Soon, the chill air was forgotten as they worked up a good sweat. Chopping wood was something of a competition for them. Corbin had the weight and strength to split a log with a single stroke, but Brand had the finesse to be able to do it more often.
“You'll never chop faster than I, you know that,” said Brand, speaking in gasps between swings.
“You're as competitive as your brother, in your own way,” observed Corbin. Chips flew and caught in their hair. The thunking sound of axes falling filled the yard.
“Ha! If that's not the river calling the shore brown!” snorted Brand. “I'm not the one who would rook Gram Rabing herself in a game of Swap-cards!”
After this brief exchange, they saved their breath for lifting their axes. The wood piled up high and fast at their feet. For speed, it was nearly a draw, although Brand's pile was marginally larger. When both of them had several armloads, they headed back into the house.
Inside they all fell to talking about old times, and even Jak seemed to have shed his dark mood. Corbin talked while working in the kitchen. He donned an apron that probably hadn't been worn since their parents had been lost and set to work on a meal of astounding variety and proportions. As Brand had suspected, many foodstuffs were packed away in his rucksacks, bought at the Spotted Hog with the remains of Tylag's money. They had no objections as hosts, however, recalling the morning's “chores” and the vast amounts that Corbin could put away in a single evening.
They feasted on smoked duck, fresh onion-bread, goat cheese and boiled merling eggs. For dessert, big, crescent slices of broadleaf melon were handed around. After dinner and washing up, they gathered at the fireplace and sipped berrywine. Jak built up a big fire with twice as much wood as usual. Outside, the wind had come up and even began to howl.
“There's no doubt of it, we're having our first winter storm tonight,” said Jak. He put his feet up over the side of his overstuffed leather chair, in just the fashion that their father had long ago complained about, but now that he was the master of the house, none spoke. “Still, it's good to have friends in the house again.”
Brand felt a wash of well being. It was good to be home with friends when winter's first breath was blowing outside. The house had been empty for too long. He looked at Telyn and his thoughts drifted pleasantly. She was brushing her hair out and staring at the fire. Her lips curved up in a delicate smile, and he knew she was aware of his attention. A blush, heated even more deeply by the wine in his belly, crept up his neck and cheeks.