A Blackbird In Darkness (Book 2)

by Freda Warrington

  ‘I’m glad you’re safe,’ she said. ‘I’m so sorry about Medrian.’

  He nodded, not looking her in the eye. ‘It’s good to see you,’ he said quietly.

  Now he was wearing a loose white shirt and blue breeches, and went barefoot. Ashurek had on a simple, long robe of ultramarine hue, Silvren a silver-blue one tied by a cord at the waist. Already H’tebhmella had worked its healing power upon her. She had been weak and ill from her ordeal in the Dark Regions, and Ashurek had always feared that she might die in the harsh cold of the Arctic. He was sure that only her will had kept her alive. Now she looked healthy again; her ashen skin had resumed its golden hue, and her hair was glossy. It was hard for all of them to think of how clear-eyed and tranquil Medrian and Skord would also have looked if circumstances had been less unjust.

  While Estarinel was greeting the others, Neyrwin came to speak to Ashurek. ‘It is simply a matter of your horses,’ she said. ‘Filitha is going to take Shaell back to Forluin today. What do you wish us to do with your Vixata?’

  ‘She is the last thing I have of Gorethria,’ Ashurek said thoughtfully. ‘She is no longer young; I would ask no more of her. Let her be taken to Forluin with Shaell. She deserves peace for the rest of her days, and I know they will care for her there. What about Taery Jasmena?’

  ‘The blue horse? I was told that he belonged to Arlenmia.’

  Ashurek laughed. ‘Aye, indeed, that is so. Let her have him back! Then she cannot accuse us of worse than “borrowing” him.’

  Neyrwin added softly, ‘Say nothing of Filitha’s visit to Forluin to Estarinel. The Lady thinks it best that he be told nothing – until he is ready to ask.’ Gravely, Ashurek agreed, and went to rejoin Silvren.

  She had not seen Eldor for years, and was joyously hugging the sage. Ashurek, remembering all that had transpired between the Guardians, the H’tebhmellians, and themselves, was looking for signs of unease between the Lady and Eldor, but he sensed only a certain coolness rather than actual hostility.

  ‘Master Eldor and I have talked for many hours,’ the Lady said, realising what he was thinking. ‘He and I are not in disagreement about the rights and wrongs of the Guardians’ deeds. However, I know that he is not in total accord with the other Grey Ones; there is much that must be resolved. For now, it is enough to know that our joint efforts have resulted in the destruction of the Serpent and the preservation of the Earth and Planes.’

  Ashurek said, ‘Miril told us that the Guardians sent humans upon this Quest so that the Earth would be saved. If they had cared nothing for the world, they could have slain the Serpent themselves – and Earth with it.’

  ‘It is so,’ Eldor said. ‘I feel that no apology can atone for what you have undergone. Their manipulations were aimed at inducing you to make the right decisions, but that doesn’t make it right. Ah, but the Grey Ones are proved shallow and short-sighted in their inhumanity.’ He shook his grey-white head. ‘The wisest choices were your own.’

  ‘Perhaps the Guardians should all be forced to live on Earth for a while, as you have, Master Eldor,’ said Silvren, but the sage did not smile at this. Instead, he looked grave and thoughtful.

  After a minute he said, ‘Alas, I have sad news to impart. The House of Rede is no more. A demon went there and slew Dritha and most of our poor guest-refugees. The rest fled and perished in the sea.’

  Exclamations of dismay greeted this news; Eldor raised a quieting hand and went on, ‘Only Dritha’s earthly body was slain; she has returned to the Guardians’ domain. And the demon itself died the instant the Serpent was destroyed. But Dritha and I have decided that we will not return to Earth. The House of Rede’s time was over with M’gulfn’s. I only regret that it had to end in such violence and bitter sorrow.’

  #

  Ashurek, Silvren and Estarinel remained on the Blue Plane for many days, resting in its healing tranquillity. They spent much time talking to Eldor, Calorn and the H’tebhmellians about the Quest, the Earth’s future, and many other matters. Estarinel, however, became more and more withdrawn. He often wandered off to be alone with his thoughts. It was not that he liked solitude. It was simply that whenever he was in company, he found himself looking around for Medrian, and the shock of sorrow when he recalled why she was not there seemed to grow more intense each time.

  ‘I finally understood what the Guardians wanted of me when they insisted that I prove “clear of purpose”,’ he said to Eldor one day, when the sage came looking for him. They stood together on the flat top of a great, mushroom-shaped stalk of rock. All around them delicate gazelles grazed on flower-spangled moss; beyond lay the lovely azure lakes and rocks of H’tebhmella. ‘It simply meant, was I so determined to slay the Serpent that I would even kill someone I loved to achieve that end?’

  ‘Don’t torment yourself, Estarinel,’ Eldor said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Don’t–?’ the Forluinishman said bitterly. ‘How can I avoid it? Why should I not be tormented?’

  ‘Because – because it was inevitable from the beginning,’ the sage said inadequately. ‘You acted rightly.’

  ‘That makes it worse,’ he replied, his tone flat. ‘It was just one of the many things you wouldn’t tell us. Inevitable! If it had been a mistake – an accident – I could have borne it better; I could simply have made an end of myself without a qualm. But to think that it was right for her to die–’ he broke off, shaking his head.

  ‘I know nothing I can say to lessen your pain, except that you should look to the future, think of Forluin…’

  ‘It was so unjust – that after all her misery, her courage, she had nothing better to look forward to than death! Right?’ He turned away, pulling his fingers through his long black hair. ‘Eldor, forgive me, I know you’re trying to help. But you’re right, there’s nothing you can say. I know it wasn’t the Guardians’ fault. It was the Serpent’s fault, and the Serpent is dead. But I don’t want revenge; I just wish Medrian was alive. I wanted her to come back to Forluin with me. To be happy. I miss her.’

  #

  Arlenmia was being held prisoner in a small crystal cavern, guarded by H’tebhmellians. However, she was suffering no hardship, beyond the anguish of her disillusionment. She had expressed no remorse, the Lady said, nor had she shown any inclination to escape captivity. Neither Ashurek nor Estarinel wanted her drastically punished for her misdeeds. In fact, they did not want to think about her at all, and were happy to leave her fate in the fair and merciful hands of the H’tebhmellians.

  Only Silvren went to see her.

  ‘What do you want of me?’ Arlenmia greeted her. She was looking across the Blue Plane through a natural embrasure in the cavern wall.

  ‘To talk to you,’ Silvren replied.

  ‘Why? I don’t know what we have to say to each other. After all that I have done; after causing you to be imprisoned in that terrible place, I have not the effrontery to ask for forgiveness! But perhaps you are not intent on forgiving me. Perhaps you merely wish to point out that you “told me so”.’

  ‘Oh, don’t,’ Silvren exclaimed. ‘It’s only that for some reason I can’t forget that we were friends for ten years. I wish I could. I still feel that I know you, although that is obviously an illusion. If you hated me – if you had wanted to destroy this world – I could understand you better. But you believed you were doing right! And I don’t think you hate me… obviously, I never knew you at all.’

  ‘No, Silvren, I don’t hate you,’ Arlenmia said quietly. ‘And yes, I believed I was right. But now I know I was wrong. And I am sorry that I caused you suffering. What more can I say?’

  ‘I am concerned about you! I want to know – well, what are you going to do?’

  ‘That rather depends upon the Lady of H’tebhmella,’ Arlenmia replied icily.

  Silvren went to her side and slipped both her hands through Arlenmia’s right arm. ‘I mean, what would you like to do?’

  She turned to look at Silvren, her blue-green eyes start
led. ‘How can I answer that? What I dreamed of proved hollow… Never can I settle for lesser dreams, transient mortal ambitions, but I have lost faith in my own judgment. Yes, I have lost faith, and I am nothing without it. What is there left for me?’ She stared out of the embrasure and said softly, ‘They say it is impossible to kill yourself on H’tebhmella. The wound heals before a drop of blood escapes. Ashurek was right, dear heart: I should have died with M’gulfn.’

  ‘Don’t – don’t talk like this. Could you not go home, wherever that is? There must be people there who love you, miss you…’

  Arlenmia was silent. After a few moments she said, ‘Where will you go? You and Ashurek.’

  ‘I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.’

  ‘Well, don’t tell me. And I beg of you, don’t come to say goodbye. I could not bear it.’ Unexpectedly Arlenmia turned and kissed her on the cheek, and Silvren felt a tear fall from Arlenmia’s face on to her own. ‘Whatever you think of me, I wish you well. Now go.’

  #

  ‘No, I have no wish ever to return to Gorethria,’ Ashurek said. He and Silvren were sitting alone by a waterfall, their arms around each other.

  ‘Are you sure? You feel like that now, but you may come to think that you should have gone back, or…’

  ‘No, my love, I will not,’ he replied. ‘What I miss about Gorethria is my own distant past, which cannot be recreated. And I would not wish it to be. As for feeling responsible for Gorethria’s future… well, I do; but whatever wrongs I perpetrated there, I am not so arrogant as to suppose I can also put right. Her fate must repose in other hands.’ After a pause he said, ‘You would like to return to Athrainy, would you not?’

  Silvren shook her head quickly. ‘All I want – if my sorcery is yet strong enough – is to make sure that my mother is all right. Setrel too, if you wish it.’

  ‘Yes, it would set my mind at rest, and Estarinel’s. He was a good man. Well, there is nowhere in Tearn that I could live at ease; nowhere that I could expect to suffer my presence. I am outcast from the Earth, in essence.’

  ‘But you have freed the world from the Serpent!’ Silvren exclaimed.

  ‘Aye, but I will not be remembered for that. I will only be remembered as the fell Gorethrian wolf, the bringer of bloodshed throughout Vardrav and Eastern Tearn. No, perhaps I have not even the right to set foot upon Earth again. Still, where I go means nothing to me, as long as I am not separated from you again.’

  She kissed him in heartfelt agreement. ‘Then I have a suggestion,’ she said. ‘The world where I learned to use my sorcery: Ikonus, some call it. I would like to go there. They wanted me to go back – the people at the School of Sorcery, I mean. I think there is much work to be done there, and I would like to help. And it is more home to me than this world has ever been.’

  ‘Then that is what we shall do,’ said Ashurek, ‘if Calorn or the Lady of H’tebhmella will aid us in finding a way there. Yes, a new beginning in a new world… that would be the best of all.’

  #

  There came a time when those who had taken part in the Quest of the Serpent went their separate ways. Eldor had already returned to join the other Grey Ones in their domain. Calorn was to take Silvren and Ashurek to Ikonus; it was her own home world and as yet she had mixed feelings about whether she wanted to stay there or not. Arlenmia was to remain in the custody of the Lady of H’tebhmella until she was deemed harmless, although Ashurek had reservations about how that could be judged.

  ‘Aren’t you going back to Forluin?’ Calorn asked Estarinel as they walked along the mossy shore of a shining aquamarine lake. ‘I thought you would have gone back almost as soon as you set foot on the Blue Plane.’

  ‘I suppose I will go back,’ he said.

  ‘You sound as if you don’t want to,’ she said, astounded.

  ‘I’m not sure I do. So much has happened. I am not the same, and Forluin is not the same.’

  ‘But it’s your home, which you fought so hard to save.’

  ‘For others; perhaps not for myself. I’m not sure I could bear to go back to somewhere I was once happy, and be happy no longer. I don’t know how to explain it.’

  ‘I think I understand,’ Calorn said.

  ‘When Miril died… it was as if she died for me personally, as if to say, there is no hope for you in Forluin. No hope for you without Medrian.’

  ‘You need time to grieve. You won’t feel like this for ever,’ Calorn said gently.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said, half-smiling. ‘I think the worst thing of all is the feeling that nothing matters. Medrian tried to warn me not to care too much. This is the result; you end up not caring about anything.’

  ‘I don’t believe you mean that.’

  ‘No, perhaps you’re right. It’s strange. When the Quest began, it was terrible to me to be away from Forluin and my friends, and in the company of these two frightening strangers, Medrian and Ashurek. But I grew to love them; you, too, and Silvren. Now you and they seem real, and Forluin seems distant, like a dream. Maybe your heart belongs with whatever you have grown used to.’

  ‘Then come with us to my world!’ Calorn exclaimed. ‘That may be the answer.’

  ‘No – that is Silvren and Ashurek’s future. Not mine.’ Estarinel replied. He smiled to show that he was grateful for her concern, but as he walked away from her, she felt saddened by the feeling that she could not help him. He seemed closed away, beyond even the reach of H’tebhmella’s healing beauty.

  #

  Estarinel did return to Forluin, but not until after Silvren and Ashurek had gone to Ikonus. Under Calorn’s direction, several H’tebhmellian women created a special Exit Point to take them to that other world. Instead of a soft blue cloud like an Exit Point to Earth, it was a sphere of crackling green and silver light.

  The Lady of H’tebhmella kissed Ashurek and Silvren on the forehead. Tears shone in her lovely, agate-grey eyes. ‘I hope that you will find happiness,’ she told them. ‘And Calorn, whether you return to my service or remain on your own world, I wish you joy also. Fare you well.’

  Ashurek said, ‘I know that I can never atone for the evil I have brought to the Earth. Not even the Serpent’s death nor my own can eradicate the past. However, I will do what little I can to show that I remember what Miril taught me. From now on I will wear only the robes of a scholar instead of a soldier’s garb, and never again will I take up a weapon.’

  He and Silvren both embraced Estarinel, all three of them weeping. This parting proved harder than they could have imagined. Then Ashurek, Silvren and Calorn turned away and vanished into the silver-green light.

  The Lady touched Estarinel’s arm with her white hand and said, ‘Estarinel? You are still sad. I fear that even H’tebhmella has no power to touch your pain. You are welcome here, but I think that only human warmth can heal you. They must miss you very much in Forluin. Do you not want to return there?’

  She was telling him, however gently, that it was time to leave. And why not? Perhaps he would feel even more rootless in Forluin than he felt here, but it did not matter, because he really felt nothing at all beyond a persistent cold sadness. Resignedly he replied, ‘Yes, my Lady. I will go back now.’

  #

  He stepped out of the Exit Point in almost exactly the same place as before, with Medrian: Trevilith Woods, some five miles from his home. A feeling of numb shock gripped him as he looked around. This wood had been undamaged a few months before; now the trees were leafless and scorched, every blade of grass and twig in the undergrowth coated with a grey substance.

  So the Serpent’s venom, which had flooded his family’s farm long after its initial attack, had spread further. He would have cried out if he’d had any capacity for feeling left; as it was, he only stared blankly at the desolation. It was twilight; there was no colour anywhere. This meant that the village had been destroyed also, he thought. He wondered if Falin and the others had escaped. Perhaps, after all, the Serpent’s poison had covered
all of Forluin and killed everyone; perhaps they had slain M’gulfn too late. A number of confusing thoughts passed through his mind, but he did not dwell on them. He began to walk towards the village to see if there was anything left.

  Presently he realised that while the substance that destroyed his home had been glutinous and deadly, the stuff flattening the grass was as dry as dust, and it cracked and crumbled beneath his boots. The terrible Serpent-stench was no longer in the air. Sometimes he had found it hard to believe that they would ever be free of its curse, but now he knew that its power to destroy had truly gone at last. Even if it was too late.

  The gloom deepened. It was cloudy and cold. Autumn, of course, he thought. He decided to walk past the Bowl Valley where his home had been, since the sight of it could not possibly cause him further pain.

  As he approached, the sky began to clear and the last of the sunlight spread a topaz-yellow glow across the sky. He came to the edge of the valley and stood still, convinced that he had somehow walked out of consciousness and into a nightmare.

  Below him were figures standing in a grey landscape, frozen under a dome of topaz glass… the hellish vision that had haunted him ever since he had seen it in Arlenmia’s mirrors. Uncomprehending, he stood swaying on the lip of the valley, staring down at this impossible scene, the culmination of his worst fears.

  I must be dreaming, he thought vaguely. The figures seemed to be moving very slowly towards him in a ragged line. Some appeared to be scattering a substance – dust, or water? – onto the ground, while others moved behind, bent in a gesture of sweeping the ground with brooms. Dreaming…

  One of the figures looked up and stopped. Faint but clear he heard a voice say, ‘Who’s that?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ another replied. ‘Run up and see, will you, dear.’

  He was walking down into the valley now, watching the figure rushing towards him but not really registering that the person was real until she collided with him. There were arms round his neck, a voice crying with breathless disbelief, ‘It’s E’rinel! Mother, it’s E’rinel!’