Revelyn: 2nd Chronicles - The Time of the Queen

by Chris Ward

  ‘She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen Andes,’ said Rema in answer to the look. ‘I find myself one moment in awe of her power and her incredible story and then I feel my heart jump just to look upon her.’ Rema gazed out over the southern lands of Revelyn. He took a deep breath. ‘I am not sure what to make of it all.’ Andes absorbed this new knowledge.

  ‘You have feelings for her?’

  Rema just shrugged. ‘You will see what I mean,’ he said at last. ‘Now let us eat. I slept well but I could eat a sabrecat.’ Andes chuckled.

  ‘Now that I can understand,’ he said.

  ‘And you must tell me about your time with the lovely Germayne,’ Rema said taking Andes so completely off-guard that he blushed a deep red.

  ‘Let’s just eat,’ he said and they sat at the meal laid out by stewards on the parapet some time before. They ate in silence before Rema once more pressed his friend.

  ‘Come Andes, she is entrancing is she not; and tall. Sylvion informs me she is descended from the Edenwhood. You two have much in common.’

  Rema was not prepared for Andes’ response.

  ‘I am not interested in this woman Rema. I am faithful to Fryn. She is the only one for me and I will be true.’ Andes spoke harshly; his words hitting Rena like arrows. ‘You keep on at me Rema. Just leave it alone.’ As soon as the words were out Andes regretted them for he realised his mood was far from his normal self. He picked up an apple and took half of it one bite, chewing furiously as Rema sat in shock.

  ‘I mean no offence Andes,’ he said evenly after a time, ‘but Germayne has seemed somewhat intrigued by you, and you blush when I mention her. I cannot help seeing these things.’

  ‘Just let it be Rema,’ Andes replied shaking his head, and so they ate in silence until he found enough composure to speak once more. ‘She showed me all over the Palace...well most places; I am sure deep down in the ground there are many rooms and storages we missed, but from the battlements I saw great views and we talked of many things...mainly life in Ramos and well... it is a wonderful place, as you already have discovered.’ Andes finished his short and most perfunctory account and would say no more. Rema realised his friend was more disturbed by his time with Germayne than he was likely to admit and so did not further pursue the matter, but rather pondered it deeply as they sat in the warm sun on the parapet far above the town.

  ‘I will speak with the Queen some more today,’ he said finally. ‘I think she has much more to reveal to me. I think perhaps you might spend some time alone, or in the city?’ Andes nodded.

  ‘I will be fine Rema,’ he replied somewhat tersely. ‘Yesterday the Palace, today the town... I will be able to give tours myself before we are finished.’

  ‘Well you will need to be in a better humour then,’ Rema said, tiring of Andes’ mood, but the great man just nodded and gave no reply.

  ‘We talked yesterday of Gryfnor the magician,’ Sylvion spoke as they sat once more in her rooms less than a span after Andes had left in a dark mood to wander the town, leaving Rema to follow Germayne to meet with the Queen once more. ‘Rayven could see nothing to recommend him, indeed so strong were her feelings in this regard that I wondered long why she was so set against him. After she left I took to spending time close by when Gryfnor was in the market doing his tricks and offering his remedies...’ She looked hard at Rema in a manner which made him feel so strange, and he wondered momentarily whether this was how Andes felt when Germayne was close.

  ‘... and I discovered something which shocked me greatly,’ she continued. ‘Many times now I have seen a man in the crowd, tall and evil looking, wearing a cloak which marks him as no other, his eyes...’

  ‘...are dead,’ Rema interrupted and to Sylvion’s shock he continued the description. ‘He is tall and bald, ugly due to a misshapen nose and a visage which would give a troll nightmares.’

  ‘You have seen this man?’ Sylvion asked quietly.

  ‘Indeed I saw him not long after I first caught sight of you, and between the two of us there was no comparison.’ Rema immediately thought he had overstepped himself, after all he was speaking to the fabled White Queen, but he had no need to worry for she did not remark upon his forwardness.

  ‘I have watched him many times and I tell you Rema, he is like Zelfos returned, not in full image but in likeness. I know evil. He seems to appear whenever Gryfnor is performing and I think this is why Rayven mistook the magician for being evil; she was sensing the other close by.’ Here Sylvion nodded to herself as though to confirm within herself this truth.

  ‘And you have not taken this man, this evil creature, into custody or at least questioned him?’ Rema asked in confusion, ‘surely if you have formed this opinion it would be no great difficulty to do this?’

  Sylvion frowned. ‘Indeed it would seem to be the case except we cannot capture him.’

  ‘But you see him there?’

  ‘I have tried many things Rema, but always he eludes me. It is as if he were able to become the very air itself and reform in another place. I have set traps. I have followed myself, I have sent armed men to lie in wait but always he is able to disappear. This is why I know he is the one to watch, although until I can capture him I have not a clue what he is about or what fell plans he might have for Revelyn.’

  ‘You have not used the Shadow Blade?’

  ‘In the open like that when I am not veiled I will not use it, for it would reveal me immediately, but I am at the point where even this is no longer such a fear for me.’

  Rema thought on this for a time as Sylvion also seemed to consider the matter.

  ‘There is one who could track him,’ Rema said suddenly unsure why this thought came so suddenly to his mind.

  ‘You know of one who could track a devil?’ Sylvion asked seriously.

  ‘On my journey here I met a man who has powers to follow a trail which are beyond any normal man or beast.’ Rema nodded at the memory of Orcxyl’s incredible feat in the forest.

  ‘Perhaps we could use him. Do you know his whereabouts Rema?’ But to this Rema could only shake his head sadly.

  ‘He is in Ramos that is all I can tell you My Lady...I mean Sylvion. He would not reveal the purpose of his journey. Indeed he was most secretive about it.’

  ‘Then he is useless to us,’ Sylvion whispered shaking her head. ‘I am at a loss to know what else to do in this matter.’ She sat staring into the distance for so long that Rema felt she had forgotten he was there.

  ‘Might we talk of the Wisden,’ he asked gently and Sylvion jumped as though startled. She shook her head and then smiled.

  ‘Forgive me Rema, I find I have so many thoughts and memories that in times of stress they compete for my attention. Germayne has often to shake me and return me to reality.’ She stood and stretched in such a manner that Rema was once more struck by her beauty and the impossible fact of her great age. ‘Yes,’ she continued, nodding,’ we must talk of the Wisden.’ With that Sylvion donned her veil and directed that Rema was to follow her. ‘Walk two paces behind Rema, that way you will not incur the wrath of those who guard me.’ Rema was surprised that he felt immediately indignant, but quickly realised it was a petty emotion and obeyed without further rancour. Sylvion led him through long corridors and down many steps until Rema thought they must be well below the ground, and by which time he had completely lost all sense of direction. Finally Sylvion stopped before a large locked door.

  ‘Here we are,’ she said taking a long key from within her gown. The door opened easily and they entered a large room which was lit by shafts of light coming from deep channels in the walls. ‘It is a clever space,’ Sylvion explained. ‘At any time one of the channels will be pointing toward some part of the sky which holds the sun, but a few lamps will help remove the rest of the shadows,’ and with that she busied herself with just such a task. Rema looked around and was at first struck by the smell. Old parchments and leather he thought, it is a scholar’s cave no doubt. In the centre of
the room was a long bench and round the walls were many shelves mostly full of scrolls and folded parchments.

  ‘The book of Prophecy is kept here?’ he asked Sylvion when she had finished lighting the several lamps which gave the room a warm and yellow glow.

  ‘Right there on the bench Rema. It is all there and has not been moved since the last Wisden died. He did not see her shake her head in sorrow for he was immediately lost in awe at the many parchments neatly laid side by side down the middle of the bench.

  ‘Might I look at them?’ Rema asked, and Sylvion smiled mysteriously.

  ‘Please Rema, feel free.’ She stood then with her back to a wall and watched with interest as Rema moved to the bench and picked one parchment at random. He laid it in a place of its own and ever so carefully folded back the worn leather cover, surprised that his heart was beating so furiously. He discovered that the topmost sheet was blank. He turned the page and found this too was blank. Slowly Rema turned page after page and found that each one held not a single mark beyond the stain of age and the wearing of the edges. In places it seemed that an ancient liquid had been spilt upon it and rather carelessly wiped away, the culprit perhaps too engrossed in what he was about to do any more.

  It seems I have chosen incorrectly thought Rema. He smiled at Sylvion who smiled back and raised her eyebrows ever so slightly. Rema chose another and like the first, this too proved to be completely blank. There was neither word nor symbol nor anything else which might indicate it worthy of a scholar’s time.

  ‘It seems I have much to learn in these matters,’ Rema said standing puzzled at the end of his third examination.

  ‘You have discovered something though,’ Sylvion commented. ‘What is it?’

  ‘There is nothing here,’ Rema replied, waving his hands over the parchments he had just examined. ‘The book of Prophecy or these parchment and scrolls which make it up carry no information at all. It is...’ and suddenly Rema’s words faded away. He looked at Sylvion with a dawning understanding. ‘Surely not?’ he whispered but Sylvion was nodding in encouragement.

  ‘Go on Rema, what have you seen.’ Rema spoke in a whisper.

  ‘Only the Wisden can read the words. They are not like any other; they are invisible to normal sight...’

  ‘Yes Rema and that is why the best of the Wisden are blind. They read by a deeper insight. I have watched as one will run a finger over the page and mouth the words for others to hear, whereupon they will talk about what is revealed and make notes which also cannot be seen or discerned by any other.

  ‘So it is true,’ Rema whispered, ‘only the Wisden can reveal what is in the book of Prophecy.

  ‘And they are all gone Rema,’ Sylvion said in great sadness, and it was all my fault. Whatever else lies important within these scrolls and pages is now lost forever; all because of my selfishness and weakness.’ She stood straight against the wall, her hands pressed against it at her sides, and Rema thought her now like a sad child, her face wet once more with tears of shame and sorrow, her body shaking slightly with the emotion of a deeper guilt.

  After a time she spoke once more in a distant voice.

  ‘But I have not told the complete truth. One other since the end of the Wisden has searched these scrolls.’ They looked at each other and once more Rema suddenly understood.

  ‘Your daughter, Rayven,’ he said quietly, and Sylvion nodded.

  ‘She has some of Cyron’s gift. Not the deepest or the quickest, but mixed with the strange logic which seems to fill her being and the sensitivity to what is troubling the land, she was able to find some hint at where to start her search and two prophecies which she claimed would point the way, but of these we do not know how yet to understand them.’

  Rema absorbed this and thought hard upon it.

  ‘Where did she go?’ he said at last. ‘Where in Revelyn did your daughter Rayven go to search out some clue to these mysteries which trouble us all?’

  Sylvion took a deep breath and replied.

  ‘The ancient Ravalin came from the east, from the oldest of the Norse...before the Norse perhaps. They settled in the far north, beyond Bald Cape where the mighty forests give way to the frozen lands; and this more than an age ago... at least. The ruins of their first great city lies on the east coast, forty hard leagues north of the Wall of Iridin-Rune which marks the furthest boundary of this kingdom, of Revelyn. Rayven discovered in these scrolls there is recorded a tale likened to our own; that in ancient times they too saw the land sink, but they were able to halt it, or so it seems. Rayven believes there is some clue in the north, in the ruins of the ancient city. That is where she headed, but I have had no word in nine full moons.’ She paused and took several deep breaths to compose her emotion for it was clear to Rema that her love for her daughter lay in the deep shadow cast by a growing fear that Rayven might have perished, or be in great danger.

  ‘She travelled alone?’

  ‘No she took a young steward with her. He is one among many here in the Palace who fell under the spell which Rayven has on men.’

  ‘She is beautiful then?’

  Sylvion nodded. ‘She is indeed, but her spell is more than that. She knows so much by some gift within. She talks in a way which few can follow and all with such great warmth and passion...’ The Queen seemed to let her thoughts drift away with a memory for a time, and then with a sudden jolt, she brought her focus back into the room. ‘...But the Steward, his name is Lars, is a good young man. He learnt his sword craft from Germayne and he is strong and would give his life I think for my daughter, so she is well served.’ Sylvion’s voice told Rema that she was trying to convince herself that all would be well when deep within it was clear she held the gravest fears. He did not know what to say in this matter so he changed the subject.

  ‘I can see that my quest for an audience with the Wisden will come to naught.’ He chuckled a little. ‘I had so set my heart on this being far easier than it has become...to find what ails the land.’

  ‘You and Rayven,’ Sylvion whispered, ‘and me,’ and they looked at each other and allowed their feelings to suddenly speak to their hearts, and the message gave each a sudden jolt.

  ‘We will return to my rooms,’ Sylvion said quickly, and with that Rema took a final look around the fabled world of the Wisden, now no more, and with the door locked behind them, they retraced their steps to find Germayne waiting with a simple meal of cold meats and cheeses and an ale of such wonderful taste that Rema knew it must be the best brewed in all the land. Germayne shared their table and seemed quite an equal in their conversation, speaking eagerly about her tour with Andes the day before.

  ‘He is quite the considerate man,’ he informed Sylvion with a laugh which echoed wonderfully off the stone walls. ‘He is funny and does not speak of things he does not know, unlike some we might mention!’ At this point both Sylvion and Germayne burst into peals of laughter and Rema realised they spoke of a private matter of some standing between them.

  ‘However he speaks too much about his love; Fryn this and Fryn that.’ Germayne introduced Andes’ love into the conversation as easily as if she were talking of the weather. ‘She must be an impressive woman...’ She left the words hanging in the air and Rema knew immediately that she was hoping for some comment from him.

  ‘She is indeed,’ he said wanting to be faithful to his friend, ‘a women of great beauty and she has a way with words which leaves most men quite left behind; but Andes is indeed greatly taken with her.’ Rema noticed that Germayne listened intently to his words and was impressed that she did not show the least bit of resentment. At that moment there was a strong knock at the door and Germayne immediately went to answer it. She spoke for a short time with a man whose strong voice seemed to fill the room, although the words were not distinct enough for Rema to make them out. Germayne returned and sat, picking up her ale with an easy familiar fashion.

  ‘Well what is it?’ Sylvion asked. ‘I take it that it was important?’

 
Germayne smiled. ‘One of the Night Guard My Lady, who wishes to inform you that last evening, or the one before, I cannot now remember, an intruder was picked up on the west wall.’ She let the words hang in the air, clearly expecting Sylvion to reply in a certain manner and in this she was quite correct.

  ‘An intruder on the walls! How in all Revelyn did an intruder get on top of the west wall?’

  ‘He climbed up all by himself’ Germayne replied munching now on a new cheese.

  ‘What, with no ladder or ropes?’ Sylvion was amazed.

  ‘Apparently it was a drunken wager, but the Night Guard who caught him said he climbed without any help, just like a lizard. He claims the man is possessed of some magic.’

  ‘And where is this intruder now?’ Sylvion queried, shaking her head in disbelief.

  ‘In the dungeon My Lady where all intruders are put, especially those found on the west wall!’ And at this the two women laughed loudly and Rema too joined in, for such was their good spirits that he found it beyond him to remain apart from their mirth. And such was the wonderful connection between the two women that they suddenly stopped laughing and looked at each other as if in the same instant they had arrived at the same idea. They nodded in agreement.

  ‘Would you like to see the dungeons Rema?’ Sylvion asked with a smile. ‘We might have a look at this magical intruder who climbs like a lizard.’

  ‘Come on Rema,’ Germayne encouraged, ‘not everyone gets to see the dungeons; not even Andes, I didn’t think to take him that far down.’

  Rema realised the two women were looking at him in expectation and it suddenly struck him how odd it all was, that it was not at all his idea of how royalty should act. Here was the Queen of all Revelyn asking him what he wanted to do when in truth she could just command him and that would that. He nodded.

  ‘To the dungeons then,’ he said, and Sylvion and Germayne clapped enthusiastically.

  Sylvion wore her veil and led, Rema and Germayne walked together a few paces behind. They were accompanied by one of the Night Guard, who was a true giant.