The Lady at the River's Edge

36 - Parting and Waking

Their preparations were swift, delayed only by occasional bouts of dissent. Ilona didn't want Erzsebet to leave again, even going so far as to suggest entrusting Antal to Facan and coming with her to the west. To the girl's credit she did not argue long, as she soon grasped that the plan relied on only Erzsebet being sighted, that if Ilona was seen the soldiers might guess Antal was near. Once she realized the danger to her brother, she surrendered the last of her resistance, though she was by no means pleased about it.

Neither was Facan, unsurprisingly, but his complaints were at least productive. He spoke persuasively of the plan's dangers, and when it became clear Erzsebet would not falter, he endeavored to guide her around those dangers. They must avoid fighting as much as they could, he implored, always choosing flight. Every second in battle was a second wherein the enemy was converging upon them, and one victory meant nothing if it brought further challenges. They should leave around noon, hoping to catch a sentry on his lunch or dozing, and if possible, try not to be noticed until they had stolen a mount. It would be quite a trick, escaping in such a way that Erzsebet was spotted, but not immediately captured. The falconer never seemed confident of their ploy, but neither did he undermine her.

Of all the resistance she faced, Janos' was the least expected, and that which she could least understand–she was saving him, after all! He had seemed so supportive when she first traced her idea, but somewhere along the way he had become dour and reticent. He never spoke against her, never argued, but his melancholy demeanor alone was dissent enough, with his flat gaze and plodding steps. When the others had at last accepted the plan, she would have pulled the knight aside and demanded an explanation, but a clamor from up the path stole her attention.

The pagans had reappeared, coming from the direction of the taltos' tent, dispersing as if Sunday mass had just let out. Only then did Erzsebet realize the oddity of the last hour, where there'd been neither sight nor sound of any of the locals–had they been in a council? She would learn soon enough, for Bolya was coming towards them.

"You make ready to depart," the warchief said as he approached. "This is good. The tribe has met, and we have deemed it best for you to go, and for us to claim never to have shared our grounds with you." He took pains to meet her gaze as he said this, refusing to let his shame make a coward of him. "By this means, we hope to avoid the ire of the new ispán, and from there we shall decide if we will leave Árpatarló."

"Ah," said Erzsebet, more than a little disappointed. "Well, I suppose that's prudent. We certainly weren't planning to tarry." She drew herself up a bit more nobly, recalling at last her lessons in diplomacy. "I thank you, Bolya, for the aid and hospitality of your people. I hope you suffer no grief for having helped us, and that your people can continue to thrive here."

The man gave a tight smile and made a gesture with his hand, a sort of rocking motion, like a flower in the wind. "Prosperity to you as well, Erzsébet, Daughter of Péter. Isten grant you his wisdom in the coming days." He turned then to Janos. "Your blades are being fetched, and shall be returned to you. We have also a gift for you both, from the táltos."

The knight nodded, hardly seeming to hear the man. What was this gloom upon him? If only she could shake some sense into him–but no, another of the pagans was coming, with Janos' sword and knife. She couldn't see anything that might be a gift, though, unless it was small enough to hide beneath the man's tunic–and if so, she wasn't sure she would want it.

Janos took his weapons back with meager thanks, hardly even looking the man in the eyes. After a glance at Bolya and a nod to Erzsebet, the man left. Erzsebet looked curiously to the gyula and asked, "What of the gift?"

"Not his to bear," Bolya answered. "Hitvand begged the honor–she brings it now. Do you see?" He tilted his head up the valley.

Erzsebet had to step around the man, but even then she couldn't see. The pagans were a bustling tangle, hurrying about with their chores, but she couldn't pick Hitvand out from the crowd. Certainly no one was coming their way.