It was wonderful, in Tristenʼs mind: he sat on the grass next to Cefwyn and Idrys and Uwen, and felt a pleasant camaraderie with these rough soldiers a joking exchange which Cefwyn and all the rest seemed to find easy, and in which the respect men had to pay Cefwyn seemed quickly to fall by the wayside. There was laughter, there was nudging of elbows at what might be cruel remarks, but the object of them rolled right off a stone, feigning mortal injury, and got up again laughing. Tristen was entranced, thinking through the way these men joked with one another, laughter a little cruel, but not wicked: he understood enough of their game to see where it was going, involving a flask that emptied before its owner regained it; there was mock battle, the man laughed, and Tristen thought that if he were so approached, he could laugh, too. It was good not to be on the outside watching from a distance, and Cefwyn laughed even Idrys looked amused.
It was good not to be protected into safe silence. He wished the men would play jokes on him. He had not understood jokes before, not this sort. Mauryl had had little laughter in him.
But he saw Cefwyn easier, saw Uwen grinning from ear to ear even Idrys flashed half a grin. He hadnʼt known the man had another expression; and he doubted it after he had seen it but it made him know other things about the man.
Afterward, though, when they were mounting up again, Cefwyn said they should go warily, and Uwen said he should stay close, that thereafter they were crossing through more chancy territory. There was a woods ahead, which the Kingʼs men had wanted to cut down, but Heryn Lord Aswydd, as Tristen gathered Uwen meant by naming the Duke of Amefel, had lodged strong protest, because of the hunting and because of the woodcutters of Emwy village and others, and had undertaken to keep the law there himself.
So, Tristen said, can the Duke of Amefel not find the sheep?
And Idrys said, Well asked.
Cefwyn, however, looked not at all happy with the question, so he guessed he had wandered into a matter of contention between them, and he was well aware that Idrys had begged Cefwyn to choose some other direction.
But Cefwyn, unlike boys growing up with wizards, was a prince and did what he pleased, when he pleased, and what he pleased was to ride in this direction. So Tristen thought, and began to worry
Still the soldiers seemed to take the news of their direction as a matter of course, and Idrys had almost laughed at noon. It seemed, at least, the men felt confident of accomplishing what Cefwyn wished at Emwy village, whether that was finding lost sheep, or Elwynim, or outlaws.
He thought about it as they rode, and patted Geryʼs neck and wondered if the horses thought at all about danger: it seemed to him, one of those things he knew along with riding, that he might rely on Geryʼs sense of things, and on all the horses to be on the watch for danger of a sort horses understood.
In late afternoon they had woods in sight on their left hand, and the land grew rougher, less of meadows and more of stony heights, on which forest grew.
They traveled until forest stretched across their path. The woods was not Marna, Tristen judged: it was green. But it was very likely part of that forest that lay on Amefelʼs side of the Lenalim, a thick and deep-looking forest all the same, reminding him of hunger and long walking.
The men talked about the river lying close.
Is it the Lenalim? he asked Uwen.
Aye, Uwen said. And Emwys-brook. And Lewen-brookʼs not far. Not a good place weʼve brushed by, the last hour and more, mʼlord.
Because of the woods? Or because of the Elwynim?
Uwen did not answer him at once. Ghosts, Uwen said finally, which was a Word of death and grief and anger. It disturbed him. He looked at the trees on either hand as they rode into that green shade, and so did the men, who said very little, and seemed anxious.
But he looked to the green branches, even hoping to see a feathery brown lump somewhere perched on a limb. Since their excursion planned to stay a night near this wooded place, he even hoped for Owl to find him if Owl would haunt any place outside Marna, such a place as this seemed exactly what Owl would favor. The whispering leaves sounded of home to him. It made him think of standing on the parapet at Ynefel and listening to the trees in the wind. And he thought it would be a very good thing if he could find Owl and bring him back to Henasʼamef. But the men around him looked not to be comforted at all by what they saw or heard.
Itʼs not so dark as Marna, he said, to make Uwen feel safer.
Few places would be, Uwen said, and made a sign folk made when they grew frightened. So he did not think he dared say more than that.
But in a little more riding, the track they followed, leaf-strewn and hardly more substantial than the Road he had followed through Marna, brought them through a thinning screen of trees and brush, into yet another broad valley, with fair grasslands and fields and hills open to the afternoon sun.
This is Arys-Emwy, Uwen said. Theyʼre mostly shepherd-folk.
So they were still in Amefel, Tristen decided. He remembered the pale lines on the map. He saw the Name in his memory. Sheep had left their tracks about the meadow and on the road, although they saw none grazing.
They came on stone-fenced fields beyond the next hill, and crops growing, and further on they could see the thatched roofs of a village Emwy village, Uwen said, which seemed a pleasant place. It had no outer walls, just a collection of low stone fences. The buildings were gray stone, two with slate roofs and a number with thatch. Shutters were open in most of the houses, and many of the doors likewise were open. Men and women were working in the fields closest to the village, and thin white smoke was going up from a few of the chimneys.
Folk stopped work as they saw what was riding down their road, folk came in from the fields, and dogs ran and barked alongside the horses, as slowly the people gathered.
Hold, Cefwyn said, and the column halted; he gave some order to Idrys about searching the houses, and Idrys and the men around him, with none of the banner-carriers, went riding off quickly into the single street of the village.
Where are the young men? Cefwyn asked of the silent villagers, who leaned on hoes and gathered behind their stone fences.
And they were all old, or young women or children.
Answer the Prince! a man of the guard said, and lowered his spear toward the people.
Off wiʼ they sheep, an old man said. Off seekinʼ after they sheep, mʼlord.
Who is the head man, here?
Auld Syes.She is, mʼlords. The man nodded toward the village, and all the people pointed the same way.
Cefwyn drew his horse about and bade them ride on toward the village itself, where Idrys and his men going in advance of them had turned out a number of villagers from their houses, a number of children, Tristen saw. Dogs were barking.
This ainʼt good, Uwen said. If village lads is off searching for any sheep, they should have the dogs along. Theyʼre lyinʼ, mʼlord.
What Uwen said to him echoed in Tristenʼs head as they rode up on the village and into its street. There were two girls a number of children, many very young. There were old folk. Cefwynʼs men, those afoot, who had been searching, and others sitting on their horses, were looking this way and that, hands on weapons. Idrys came riding slowly closer to them.
Not a one of the youths on the rolls, Idrys said, out of some far distance. So much for Herynʼs law-keeping.