by Chris Ward
‘What do I do My Lady?’ Andes said quietly.
‘Put the Diabule on the hearth.’ Sylvion’s order came immediately and Andes suddenly stepped back.
‘Give it up?’ he stammered, and it was clear to all that this was suddenly a great difficulty for the giant man.
‘You see how it has a hold on you?’ Sylvion said firmly. ‘You speak in regret but to give it up requires you to act. Do it Andes, put it on the hearth stone now.’ And Andes slowly obeyed, but it seemed with the greatest of effort. He reached into a leather pouch sown into his tunic and withdrew the small and purplish rock. He walked to the stone hearth and placed it there and stepped back, but his hand lingered over it for a moment before he did so. And then immediately, he seemed relieved of a mighty burden for he stood taller and his shoulders straightened.
Sylvion did not speak but in an instant took the Shadow Blade and with a flash of blinding light which none knew was coming she shattered the Diabule into dust and the cave quaked with the reverberation of the power if it. And then she turned back to Andes and it was obvious that her mind was clear and planning what next must be, for her eyes were flashing with the light of the Shadow Blade, and when she spoke it was powerful to hear.
‘But you cannot travel on with us Andes. I have destroyed the Diabule, but what power Gryfnor has over you is too subtle for me to know, and I will not risk what is to come because of your poor choice, no matter that you are sorry or full of regret.’ These hard words brought the most sombre mood upon them all.
‘But what shall I do?’ Andes replied bewildered and shocked.
‘You will return to Ramos,’ Sylvion said immediately. ‘You will take that wonderful Sword which El-Arathor has given you and at the first opportunity with stealth and cunning you will slay Gryfnor if at all possible. This now becomes your quest and I will send Germayne with you for she will give you access to the Palace and all that you will require.’
‘My Lady, I do not wish to leave your side,’ Germayne said, stunned at such a turn of events.
‘Nevertheless Germayne this is what you will do. I will give you a letter of authority and a ring which will install you in my place for the duration of my absence. The steward Elgyn, who I left in charge will step down and allow you to rule until I return; with his help.
‘But I am your handmaid, your servant My Lady, I am no steward of Revelyn...’
‘And you know how I have ruled. You will show many what a great woman you have become.’ Sylvion spoke gently now and took Germayne’s hands. ‘I need this of you Germayne, and Andes needs you to accompany him.’
At that moment the cave shook and Reigin called, ‘look there is water coming in.’ He pointed to where a trickle of water seeped down from higher up. ‘That is the old entrance to the cliffs,’ he continued. Without warning he sprang up to it and with some distant memory which came to him he took hold of the ancient rock door and it swung inwards. A sudden rush of clean sea air and light flooded the cave. Sylvion was about to join him when suddenly as mighty wave rolled in and washed Reigin off his place and back down into the cave. Another followed and then another, and this the largest of all; suddenly all about them was water and a mess of debris, for treasures floated all about them in a tangled chaos.
‘The cliffs were once eighty cubits above the water.’ Reigin said as he sprang back, wet but wonderfully agile and closed the door as easily as he had opened it. He stood and looked down at them in shock. ‘But now the sea is at the entrance.’ As he spoke more water seeped in around the rock door and the distant thunder of the waves could be dully heard breaking hard upon it.
‘The land is sinking as we speak,’ Rema said, ‘that is what we felt; the rock was telling us...’
‘It is time to leave’ Sylvion interrupted. ‘Bring only what you came with. This will soon be under water and rightly so. Take nothing from this place save what is yours,’ and her stern charge was obeyed without protest, although she herself took the Shadow Blade and with several quick deft slices removed the part of the canopy which held the depictions which she had sought and which had so changed her knowledge. This she gave to Germayne to store with her things and then not long after they were all back in the rock cleft some distance inland from the sea, but now there was salt water on the ground and the horses were unsettled.
‘The water is rising up through cracks,’ Reigin said. ‘Mount and ride now but take care, we do not need to hasten too quickly. We have time to make an escape,’ and with these words he was quickly in the saddle and within a short space he led the group back up the hidden cleft and then up onto higher ground. Suddenly the air was full of salt and spray and all knew the sea was close by for they could hear the power of the waves pounding upon the rocks. They paused and looked back at where they had ridden and suddenly a swirl of water swept around a corner in the deep cleft and raced waist deep towards them, where it boiled and sucked at the steep slope they had just climbed, as if trying to reach for them.
‘The cave is gone then,’ Sylvion whispered. ‘Just like that, in no time at all. We reached the canopy in time...but barely.’
‘But is was enough Sylvion,’ Rema added, sitting beside her on his horse, ‘and that now, is what matters.’ And Sylvion looked at him and smiled and remembered her Rema and his simple way with words and felt her emotions powerful within her. She nodded and he knew she wanted to say something but could not. He smiled back and leaning toward her, whispered to her in such a low voice that only she heard.
‘Lead us Sylvion, whatever next must come, I will be by your side.’
And Sylvion shed a single tear, then turned her steed and followed Reigin, and so they returned after a time to their first camp by the road to Fisher where once more a fire was made and Sylvion set about the business which needed to be attended to. They ate as Sylvion worked, writing on parchments she had ordered Germayne to carry with her. Rema and Andes took the opportunity to walk together and it was with great sadness that they did so.
‘I am sorry Rema,’ Andes said, ‘I did not know what I was doing, I thought it harmless.’
‘I do not judge you Andes,’ Rema said in reply, ‘I am only sad that we will part here. This is not what I thought would happen...’ Andes gave a little grunt.
‘If we knew then what we do now, would we have even left the Highlands?’
‘Yes,’ Rema said firmly, ‘yes Andes I would. I needed to know what I now know, and I need to go on...’
‘You could return with me to Ramos,’ Andes said and brightened. ‘That’s it Rema, we can defeat Gryfnor together. Why should we be parted?’
‘Andes I cannot,’ Rema said sadly. ‘I will go on, for I know there is much more yet to be done, and Sylvion alone can lead me. She is at the heart of what must come to pass in Revelyn.’ At this Andes’ countenance fell.
‘She is bewitching you Rema,’ Andes said almost angrily. ‘She has a hold over you, and you cannot resist it.’ Rema nodded and thought on these words.
‘You are right Andes. But still I will travel with her. I know this is right.’
Andes sighed and said nothing for a time.
‘Kill Gryfnor and get back to Fryn,’ Rema said half in jest.
‘It sounds so easy Rema but I do not have a good feeling about this. We should stay together.’ They walked on in silence but each knew that the way ahead was on separate paths, and they feared for the other.
‘Take care then Andes,’ said Rema as they headed back to the camp. ‘I have no truer friend.’
‘And I likewise Rema,’ Andes replied. ‘You too take care and I look forward to your return, either to Ramos or you will find me with Fryn.’ Rema nodded but inclined his head toward Germayne who worked with her Queen.
‘And Germayne?’ he said.
‘I have promised Fryn Rema, and I will be true. Until death...I will be true.’
‘Then take this Andes,’ Rema said, changing the subject, and gave his friend a small bundle. ‘I fear you may have need of
it.’ Andes frowned.
‘What is this Rema?’
‘It is a cloak. It has some power of protection. I read of it...’
‘In the book,’ Andes said laughing and completing Rema’s words.
‘Yes, in the book,’ Ream replied, ‘and remember Andes that all that I have read, in the book, has been true. This cloak has saved lives. It comes from El-Arathor. I would trust his gifts.’
The two great friends held each other close for a moment and then returned quickly to the camp.
They parted soon after. Germayne and Andes headed west back along the path they had ridden so little time before. Germayne carried letters of authority and the Royal Seal upon them, and a ring which only the ruler might wear in Ramos. She also had instructions from Reigin to send a carriave from Ramos at her earliest possibility to inform the Edenwhood that he would be delayed, for despite Sylvion’s encouragement to return to his people, he knew that the immediate threat to Revelyn was also one which AlGiron could not long ignore.
‘I will travel with you Sylvion, and we will see this evil destroyed,’ he had said as she sat and wrote her letters, and Sylvion smiled and gratefully accepted his offer of service.
‘I am in your debt once more Reigin,’ she said. ‘It is a place I am happy to enjoy.’
Rema and Andes shook hands once more; Sylvion embraced a tearful Germayne and then they were gone, the giant man and the wonderful Germayne whose love and gentleness would be sorely missed by those who now travelled on without her. Hardly had the sounds of their horse faded into the forest than Sylvion gathered the others to her.
‘I have further things to say which could not be said until Andes had gone, she said bluntly. ‘I could not risk that his knowing of such things might be found out by some lingering magic which remains in him, for I do not know how great or little is Gryfnor’s access to his thoughts, even though he has given up the Diabule. It is sad that I could not trust him, but I would not risk jeopardising us, and in any event both Andes and Germayne now have no need of this knowledge.
‘What is this then Sylvion?’ Reigin inquired, and Sylvion took a deep breath and revealed her secret.
‘I carry on my person one final prophecy which came from the Wisden before they passed from this land. They could not make sense of it, but it is ancient, from the earliest pages of the Book of Prophecy, and I was told all prophecy from this time has come to pass; without fail.’ She took a small parchment from her leather riding bag, and unfolded it, smoothing it flat upon her thigh. ‘The revelation which the canopy has given shows me now that there is much more to come and the reason I have not returned to Ramos immediately to deal with Gryfnor myself is this...’ She paused to let her words sink in and then continued quietly. ‘First I will read the prophecy and explain my thinking, and indeed my plan.’
‘This is what is written,’ she said, and read the words upon the parchment.
When the Blade and arrow are one
It shall pierce the evil heart,
And it shall be done
As from the depths of Svalbard
Dark waters come
To rid the land of sorcery
And to set the Varanii free
The words echoed around the camp fire, but none spoke for no one knew what they meant.
‘All I know,’ said Sylvion finally, ‘is that the evil we face is beyond Ramos, and the place called Svalbard is the heart of it. Gryfnor is but a puppet, evil though he may be. There is another I am sure, likely far more powerful, and I must seek this one out.’
‘But where do we search Sylvion?’ Reigin asked, confused.
‘My daughter Rayven knew more than I understood,’ Sylvion whispered sadly. She told me that Gryfnor was evil and I did not listen, but she was right, and in her frustration at my deafness, and troubled by the travail of the land she could finally not bear any longer to do nothing.’ Sylvion took a breath and Rema knew she was feeling great emotions. ‘She knew the ancient Ravalin had long ago seen their once great city sink into the sea and this had been halted. With the Wisden of Ramos gone, she thought she would try to find the remnant of the Ravalin, and inquire what they knew.’ Sylvion looked around the fire at each face which looked back at her, enthralled once more. ‘We both knew that she had little enough reason to follow this path, but she is young and there was anger between us.’ Sylvion sighed. ‘She left many moons past and I have heard no word, but the ruins of the Ravalin are not so far north of here. I wish to try to see what we might find of Rayven for good or for worse.’ She let her tears fall soundlessly and none knew what to say save Rema who reached out and placed his hand upon hers.
‘Sylvion we have had little enough to go on these past days but all has fallen into place. Let us do as you wish and travel to this lost city and see what we can find.’ At this Sylvion smiled and nodded.
‘My plan is simple enough,’ she said. ‘If I cannot find there any clue to Rayven, or the prophecy then we will return to Ramos and deal with what we know in that place.
And so it was agreed.
They rode hard to Fisher and met no folk upon the road. At one place where the coastal path swung east toward the sea they found the water now reached but a stone’s throw from where they passed, clear proof that the land had sunk for some distance in that part. They all wondered whether Fisher itself, an old town and the northernmost outpost of the kingdom might have been lost; but this was not the case and they entered without remark from the townsfolk, for it was a sizeable town and used to the coming and going of people both by land and sea. They found lodgings by the harbour in an Inn named for the seafarers which mostly frequented it.
‘Seaspray Inn,’ Reigin commented in good humour. ‘If it stops at the spray all will be well, I trust we do not find water in our beds tonight.’ And they all laughed at this wry remark.
Sylvion gave various orders with respect to securing supplies for their journey north, and it was agreed to meet back for a meal that night in the Inn.
‘Come Rema,’ Sylvion said, ‘you and I will seek information on the best path from here to the ruins of the Ravalin.’ And so they walked together through the town, stopping in various places to inquire what local knowledge might best suggest. Most folk seemed pleasant enough but none gave any good advice save one old seaman whose leg had been lost to disease or accident and was now replaced by a stump and wooden peg for support. They found him by the harbour mending a fishing net, and talking cheerfully to himself whilst puffing furiously on a pipe. Sylvion and Rema watched him for a time before approaching him for he was quite odd, and yet mightily entertaining in his own way.
‘Friend I would like to inquire of your knowledge on a matter,’ Sylvion said gently as they finally stood before him. ‘We travel north and need the wisdom of one who might know these lands... who might suggest by which means we should travel and what perhaps to expect or avoid.’ The seaman puffed furiously on his pipe and did not look up, his hands all the while worked nimbly at his net. Finally he allowed one eye to leave his work and with a most amazing facial dexterity looked from Sylvion to Rema and back, his other eye all the while remained fast upon the job. Rema was quite amazed. The strange seafarer nodded.
‘You be fixing to visit the old Ravalin ruins then would ye?’ he said gruffly, once more engrossed in his work.
‘Indeed friend that is our intention,’ Sylvion replied. ‘We have good horses and are well supplied, but do not know beyond this town what path is best.’
‘Them is haunted ruins you understand.’ The old seaman suddenly halted his work and with another extraordinary feat, fixed one eye each upon the two before him, and both Sylvion and Rema were immediately taken back by such a strange ability, and the manner in which it gave the man a somewhat idiotic countenance. Their reaction did not seem to worry the man at all for he went on. ‘I’ve known a few sane men as gone completely mad upon their return from that fell place.’ He paused and this time his eyes switched subjects which mightily increased his ri
diculous presentation. This however only seemed a temporary condition for his eyes quickly reverted to the lesser oddness as he continued. ‘And some never came back mind, so I have no means to know just how mad they went.’ At this he laughed loudly causing his eyes to flick back and forth as they independently worked to focus upon Sylvion and Rema in turn.
I think perhaps you have visited the place more than once thought Rema who found it hard not to laugh himself at the spectacle. Sylvion however pressed on.
‘We have no fears of ghosts my friend but can you give us good knowledge of which path is best?’ The man suddenly focused both eyes upon Sylvion, and Rema felt strangely rejected.
‘If your horses can swim mightily you might have a chance lady,’ the seaman said quietly as if now weighing his words carefully, ‘for the Ravalin River is impassable, and ye cannot get to the ruins unless you cross the River if you travel by land. It is a league wide at the mouth and the forest surrounds it. No, but it is impossible. That way it cannot be done.’
‘So how do people reach the ruins?’ Sylvion persisted. The old man stared hard at her for a time. Once during this, one eye switched momentarily to Rema as if to check he was still there. Finally he continued.
‘Well Lady, if you must seek out a haunting, I would take a boat across the Gulf and make landfall by the wall of Iridin-Rune. The forest north is manageable but the ground is broken and will take a toll. Your horses will not thank you for it, but it is possible.’
‘No other way?’ Sylvion asked quietly, and the old man replied quickly.