"Don't be an idiot," Talisen replied with a groan. "We have been over this before. I journey with you and let that be the end of it."
Collun shook his head, but he did not protest further. As they left the campsite, Collun thought he heard the harsh call of a bird again, but when he looked around, he saw no sign of one.
***
After leaving the road, they traveled along gently sloping moorland overgrown with bracken, heather, and rushes. The perpetual drizzle did not abate, and by the fifth night their tempers had begun to fray. Collun was unable to kindle a fire. With a disgusted sound Talisen spat a mouthful of stale bread into the rain-soaked grass.
"We have precious little food to be wasting it like that," snapped Collun.
"Here, you can have it all," said Talisen, thrusting his portion of the hard bread toward Collun, who ignored him. Talisen lapsed into a sulky silence.
"I know what we need," Talisen said finally, breaking the silence.
"What's that?"
"A song," Talisen responded with a sudden grin.
He unwrapped his harp from its protective leather covering and examined it with concern to make sure the damp had not harmed it. Satisfied, he touched the strings. A row of clear, true notes sounded, and Talisen's voice, vibrant and deep, filled the damp night.
"Sing cuckoo, cuckoo-o,
The spring is coming-o.
The daffadowndilly, the quince,
and the rose,
Underneath the earth, the tiny
bud grows."
Collun lay back, his wet clothing and cold limbs forgotten for the moment. As he watched the familiar expression of joy that transformed Talisen's face when he played, Collun felt his body relax.
Just as Collun was falling asleep, he thought he heard a bird call out. He remembered the scald-crow and its bloodred eyes. Idly he ran his finger over the line on his forehead where its feathers had touched him. The chill was less but the numbness remained.
He slept fitfully. Sometime in the middle of the night he came fully awake, body sweating and eyes wide open. He had been dreaming of Nessa. She was screaming in horror as a scald-crow pecked at her neck. It took Collun a long time to get back to sleep.
***
When he woke again at dawn he felt jittery and cold, and all that day he kept remembering the dream.
The drizzle that had plagued them for days gradually changed into a hard, wind-driven rain. The sky became so dark that Collun often lost sight of the sun entirely.
As the rain-soaked days began blending into each other, Collun couldn't shake the feeling that they were heading in the wrong direction. The moors became harder to navigate the wetter the ground got and offered no protection from the wind.
Early one evening Talisen came to an abrupt stop, swearing he could not move another step. Looking out over the bleak, rain-swept moor, Collun not very hopefully suggested they find a place to stop and finish the last of their food.
"Look!" exclaimed Talisen.
Collun peered through the gloom and saw what appeared to be a light.
"Come on," urged Talisen. "It must be a farm."
They trudged forward through the rain, every inch of them chilled through. As they drew closer they saw that the light emanated from a long, two-story building with several smaller buildings adjoining it. Just beyond the structures Collun could see a wide road.
With a sinking heart, he realized this was the Traveler's Rest, an inn that served those who journeyed on the high road to Temair. Somehow they had made their way back to the road.
Talisen let out a whoop of pleasure. "Traveler's Rest! I hear they have the finest ale this side of Temair. And warm beds and good food. I think I will survive after all."
Remembering the kesil's words, Collun was on the verge of protesting, but the temptation of hot food and a chance to dry off was too overwhelming to resist. Wearily he followed Talisen in the direction of the brightly lit inn.
FIVE
Mister Urlacan
The Traveler's Rest had been built of large blocks of stone, with mullioned windows that were now fogged from the warmth inside. The inn looked as if it had stood where it was for many hundreds of years, surviving the bleakness of its surroundings by sheer stubbornness.
Its sign blew crazily on creaking hinges. The semblance of a puff-cheeked man in a striped nightcap sleeping in a snug bed was faintly visible despite the peeling paint.
When Collun and Talisen opened the door, a warm blast of air blew into their faces. Closing the door behind them, they stood still for several moments, savoring the warmth.
A small boy, dressed in worn but clean clothing, ran into the entranceway. He skidded slightly in the pools of water that were forming as their soaked garments dripped onto the floor.
Talisen steadied the boy with a wink and a friendly hand, but the boy drew back and looked at them with wary, bright eyes.
"You be wanting a bed for the night?"
"Indeed we do. Your softest beds and your hottest water, and then as much good food and ale as your table can hold," Talisen said with gusto.
"And have you the gold to pay for it?" boomed a deep voice. A large stomach appeared around the corner, followed by its owner, a mountain of a man with a head that was large and round and completely bald. His eyes were not small, but they seemed so, lost as they were in the expanse of flesh that surrounded them. He wore a small gold hoop in one substantial earlobe. Like the boy, the large man's eyes held a guarded expression, as if he was used to encountering trouble.
"Are you the esteemed landlord of this legendary inn?" Talisen queried in his most engaging manner.
"That I am. Job Wall is my name, and I'm asking you again: Have you the means to pay for your lodging?"
Collun was about to ask the huge man the cost of his smallest room, thinking of the three silver pieces in his pocket, which was all the money he possessed in the world, but Talisen spoke first.
"Will this be adequate?" Pulling a leather pouch from his pocket, Talisen dropped a large gold coin into the landlord's hand. Collun stared.
The landlord peered at the coin, then put it between his yellow teeth and bit down. Satisfied, he nodded. "Aye. Have you horses to stable?"
They shook their heads. The landlord raised his eyebrows but made no comment. "Rince, show them to the top room on the end, with the two beds, and make sure they get hot water. Mind you hurry, boy. We've got a fair crowd in the main room tonight."
The boy called Rince showed them to a small room on the second floor. It was plain but cozy. Though the two swaybacked beds looked ancient, there were several blankets at the foot of each.
Rince said he would fetch the hot water. When the door closed behind him, Collun said sharply, "Where did you get the gold?"
"Oh, that. Just another parting gift from dear Farmer Whicklow," Talisen responded cheerfully, sitting on the edge of one rickety bed to take off his damp boots.
Collun shook his head in dismay. "Old Whicklow will have you thrown into prison the moment you return to Inkberrow."
"To begin with," said Talisen patiently, "I have no intention of returning to Inkberrow, but even if by some ill fortune I were to do so, the good farmer would not lift a finger against me. You see, he really did give me the money."
Collun gave a snort of disbelief.
"It's true," Talisen protested. "A token of his esteem and perhaps a small measure of appreciation for keeping to myself the fact that just before I left to join you, I saw four cows with Farmer Pilbeam's mark in the Whicklow barn."
"So it's blackmail. Talisen, you are as low as..."
"Farmer Whicklow." Talisen laughed. "But never mind. We need it more than he does. After all, we'd be of very little use to Nessa lying frozen and lifeless out there on the moor."