“And so we shall go at once,” Anvin replied gaily, he had a strange fondness for the eldest of Ballour’s sons and it had been many years since they had last met. As Anvin prepared to leave, Celestine watched Evalean and Mathilda, bent over in discussion and moved towards them slowly, eavesdropping.
“You should see him Mathilda! He is even more handsome than before!” Evalean gushed, her cheeks a light shade of red.
“I am certain he must be,” Mathilda replied lightly.
“Do you think he will remember you?” Evalean asked Mathilda seriously.
“We were all best friends, off course he will silly,” Mathilda laughed running her fingers through her thick, boyish haircut.
“His wife died a few years ago,” Evalean began. “Morad said that he is to marry soon at the festival of life.”
“Yes I heard the rumours a while back, if it is true then I wish him all the happiness in the world,” Mathilda smiled turning to Celestine and frowning slightly.
“Good morning,” Evalean said happily. Evalean became wordless as she gazed at the tall and beautiful Celestine. The previous night’s darkness had shielded Celestine from the group, but as the sun rose, Evalean realised with awe just how incredibly beautiful she really was, her wild auburn hair plaited down her back, her beautiful golden eyes bright and her tall, petite frame gently draped in leather armour.
“Morning,” Celestine replied awkwardly. “I was wondering if it would be possible to go back to the beach?”
Mathilda and Evalean looked at each other as though they were debating the question telepathically.
“We must return to Calnuthe, but upon returning I will bring you back myself,” Mathilda answered gracefully, “now come, we must be off time is of the essence.”
On their return to Calnuthe, Celestine stayed at the back of the group quietly. Mathilda, Anvin and Evalean talked the whole way back, oblivious to Celestine’s fear of meeting Galean. Celestine took in the landscape for the first time as they passed the villages and towns alive with people, some swarming Anvin and asking for his blessing. The Dunaman people lived in round houses, ranging from small on the outskirts to larger houses within the centre. As they made their way through one such village Anvin held back and joined Celestine.
“Each hamlet has a chieftain, voted for by the people and he lives in the largest of the houses with his family,” Anvin explained carefully watching Celestine’s eyes roam around. “We have three levels of society on the island, those who serve as soldiers, then the craftsmen and finally the farmers.”
“And what about priests?” Celestine asked, smiling down at a small girl who was running after her laughing and barefoot.
“Calnuthe is the centre for those who wish to learn the art of magic and also those who wish to practise the law,” Anvin answered. “Not many of my people are gifted with magic, but those who are come to Calnuthe as children under the tutorage of the elder priests.”
“And what of their families?” Celestine asked Anvin, who was holding out his hand to a woman who kissed his knuckles reverently.
“If they wish to marry then they are welcome to stay in Calnuthe as their offspring are usually born with the same hereditary gifts.”
“And what of social division?” Celestine mused. Back on earth social division was evident throughout history, and she wondered whether the Dunaman tribe ever revolted against one another.
“We try to exert equality among the tribe, we praise all levels of society and their contribution, those possessed of magic do not bring food to the table and those who do bring food to the table often need the help of healers when epidemics and diseases spread,” Anvin lectured proudly, “but I would be lying if I said that our people were not sometimes pushed into feeling frustrated, that is why we have a spokesperson for each hamlet. Our lawmakers go out and serve the people, they give them a space in which to raise their concerns and the grand council debates the issues looking for resolution.”
“Were I come from we only have one form of resolution,” Celestine sighed heavily. “War.”
“My people have never waged war upon another civilisation, we believe in other forms of resolution, the sword is not the answer for everything,” Anvin replied fiercely. “We do not take the killing of one’s life lightly; we are a tribe that believes in protecting not just the beings of our world but all that dwells within it, we want to see it flourish and conquer evil not just through the use of violence.”
“But you will agree that there are those even within your own tribe that may think differently?” Celestine quizzed softly as they rode over the rolling hills of Drothal, the grass a beautiful organic green. In the distance, women and children were working the fields, singing loudly reminding Celestine of Keswick during the harvest.
“When a parent brings a child into the world, we have so many hopes and dreams about who they will become and what will become of their lives,” Anvin began gazing out across the beautiful countryside, “we use our own knowledge and life experience to help mould theirs, to prevent them from danger and to encourage them to become better than ourselves, but,” he frowned looking back at Celestine, “we forget, they are born with their own characters and natures. We spend our life trying to mould our children into ambassadors for the future, but for many parents it is a wasted cause. We are all given free will, and that means in many cases that our children turn against us.”
“I used to babysit a little boy called Charlie, his parents worked in the mines and I looked after him during the day,” Celestine smiled at the memory. “He was such a kind boy until he hit his teenage years and his nature changed. He became unbearable for his parents even turning away from his education,” Celestine sighed her eyes on the young children in the fields gathering crops. “I didn’t understand why he had become so hell bent on walking down a path of destruction, he made it his mission to cause harm wherever he went and the town’s people blamed the parents, but I knew it was not their fault.”
“I have had to turn away many people from my tribe because of their morals and ethics,” Anvin replied steadily. “We only use violence when it is absolutely necessary, our children are taught to resolve their problems not by violent means but through talking and understanding one another.”
“It sounds rather perfect,” Celestine smiled.
“On the outside yes,” Anvin sighed, “but I have sat beside men that have wished me dead and my family. I have foiled many attempts on my life and I have faced the anger of my people when disease and suffering have brought them to their knees.”
“You say that you wield magic and have healing powers, how is it that disease is allowed to spread throughout your lands?” Celestine quizzed moving her hips about relieving them from tension.
“Magic has its limits, it can be your friend and your enemy,” Anvin replied blandly.
“What do you mean?” Celestine responded curiously a conversation with Jophiel arising within her memory.
“When an angel kills another angel, they pay for it dearly,” Anvin began, “it pays to use magic, we do not have the powers that you possess, we are not angels, we are just beings.”
“What would happen if you eradicated a disease?” Celestine asked seriously, watching Mathilda and Evalean chase one another playfully.
“There are consequences to everything that we do,” Anvin frowned. “If I were to rid the people of an epidemic, a stronger epidemic would take its place, and my powers only stretch so far as do the healers. Sometimes as perverse as this may sound, epidemics have reason. If I were to constantly heal everybody of their wounds and diseases, their immune systems wouldn’t cope any longer. The body is as powerful as the mind and we who wield magic must respect that. I have to ask myself many times, what is the best course of action?”
“So what do you use your magic for?” Celestine asked batting away strands of her auburn hair.
“To heal exceptional cases and to keep an eye on our allies and foes,” replied Anvin evenly, �
�some have the gift of foresight, some the gift of healing and others gifts of a rarer nature, but our job as elders is to help those who possess some form of magic to control their power.”
“So as to not manipulate it?” Celestine asked quietly.
“Yes as I have already said magic can be your friend and your foe.”
“When I first felt power within me, it was like a wave of adrenaline, almost intoxicating,” Celestine said quietly. “I expect you can become quite addicted to it, which worries me as I have seen how magic can ruin lives. I am afraid that I will become emerged in it.”
“That is why you are here,” Anvin smiled. “I will teach you not only to harness your powers for good but to control them so that you are in control of them and not the other way around.”
“Have you ever felt controlled by your powers?” Celestine quizzed following Mathilda and Evalean into a forest.
“Yes, when I was a young man I went through a period of testing, every student of magic must face a time of testing, you will,” he nodded at her, “when you are ready. I was sent to the kingdom of Taer for a year by myself and spent a great deal of time trying to control myself and the urges that I felt.”
“Did you ever overstep the boundaries?”
“Once,” Anvin replied darkly. “The Queen lay dying during child birth,” he looked ahead to the boisterous Mathilda before looking back at Celestine. “She asked me to save the life of her unborn daughter Mathilda at whatever cost. I naively agreed, knowing that to save one life meant the death of another.”
“Did the mother die?” Celestine whispered.
“She lived for a while, until she was murdered,” Anvin replied quietly flashes of the dead queen filling his mind.
“But that was not your fault surely, magic is there to help,” Celestine protested.
“In essence yes, but there is a rule, to bring back a life another must be taken; I did not consider this, I was too arrogant and I was trying to impress the Queen,” Anvin stated shamefully. “And because of my arrogance and ignorance I cost Mathilda her mother and Taer their Queen.”
“What did you do next?” Celestine asked the downcast priest, his eyes lowered.
“I took the baby to your father and he ordered his men to take the child here, to my father,” Anvin replied watching Mathilda throw sticks in the air trying to touch the highest branch of a tall Neda tree. “I went to the North to stay with Ballour, ashamed to go home, until my own father passed away and I had to come back to Summe as I was his only heir.”
“Does Mathilda know?” Celestine asked the priest.
“Yes, and she has forgiven me,” Anvin smiled weakly, “although I am not sure I have forgiven myself. This I do know,” he began, “when I came home I vowed that I would help every barer of magic to control their powers, I vowed that I would teach them and guide them so that would not make the same mistakes that I did.”
“Has it worked?”
“For the most part yes, off course there have been those who have found issue with my morals and ethics. Those who cannot live within the tribe leave Summe and head for the mainland not content with the peace and stability that we endeavour to keep here,” Anvin answered weakly.
“That unfortunately is the reality of life,” uttered Celestine softly.
“It is indeed,” Anvin sighed raising his eyes to her, “it would please me if you and I could talk of your world a little in the evenings,” Anvin stopped his horse and turned to Celestine. “I read your book during the night, I would like to know more about the romans if you care to share?”
“I am no academic in history but I know enough to give you a general picture of the roman civilisation,” Celestine replied patting her horses black mane whilst looking into the kind and wise face of Anvin, she felt a kinship with the priest.
“That will be enough for me, knowledge is more powerful than the sword, always remember that if you are to rule,” Anvin replied, “now let us catch up with rebels or they will beat us home.”
With her confidence boosted, Eveline kicked her horse into a gallop, her bag and sword bouncing at her side. The sight of the city Calnuthe looked very different in the light, the large round house stood taller on the hill and the defensive wall was heavily populated with soldiers keeping watch. At the arrival of Anvin, four soldiers baring horns rang out announcing his return, the entrance gates opening to allow them inside the city. A flag baring two flowers flew over the entrance as the group entered. A heavily populated audience awaited Anvin and shouted for him as he made his way up the city towards his palace. Many of the citizens looked on at Celestine with curiosity and intrigue, many pointing at her golden eyes.
“Queen Celestine of Calhuni,” Anvin announced loudly causing the entire crowd to immediately bow before Celestine who blushed crimson, her eyes lowered to the ground. Shouts of cheers rang in the air as the Dunaman people called out to Celestine stretching out their hands to touch her. Celestine began to feel slightly overwhelmed with all of the attention causing her to feel intensely anxious, making her body to feel faint. Finally, winding their way through the heavy crowds, the steps to the palace came into view and the soldiers came down to meet with their horses, Mathilda, Evalean and Anvin getting down. As the crowd began to engulf the priest and the group, Celestine looked up over their heads, her eyes ascending the steps, meeting Galean’s gaze. Immediately, without notice, Celestine fainted, falling into the crowd of over excited citizens. Lying face down in the mud, Celestine’s body was trampled on as she lay unconscious. Suddenly a loud voice shot over the crowd demanding that they retreat instantly. Quickly the people of Calnuthe retreated, suddenly realising that Celestine’s lifeless body lay in the dirt, bloodied and soiled.
“Oh my God!” cried Mathilda running over to Celestine and falling down on her knees turning her over, her face bloodied and covered in mud, her nose broken. Anvin ran to Celestine’s side and helped Mathilda lift her up into their arms. Evalean watched as Galean descended the steps swiftly.
“Eveline!” he cried looking down into her blood stained face, her nose broken and disfigured and her eyes swollen. “I will take her,” he commanded not looking at the priest or Mathilda, but taking Eveline from them and bringing her into his arms, turning and ascending the steps back up to the palace, her lifeless form causing the crowds to become silent and still a few cries ringing out. Anvin, Mathilda and Evalean followed Galean who was now being flanked by Morad and Aabe disappearing into the round house. As Galean hurried to the fire in the centre of the round house, Aabe called to the maids for warm water and cloths to be brought immediately along with salt.
“Is she breathing?” Anvin cried looking down at the unrecognisable figure of Celestine who he had just been talking to a few moments ago. Galean pressed his ear to Celestine’s heart and closed his eyes.
“Yes,” he replied firmly.
“Aabe you must attend to her wounds,” Anvin ordered, his guardsmen arriving on the scene taking his cloak from him.
“Evalean can you go and fetch one of the wooden beds for guests and bring it here?” Aabe turned to his friend and asked quickly, rolling up his sleeves.
“Off course,” Evalean replied turning on her feet and leaving the group, Mathilda following. Aabe knelt down beside Celestine and carefully wiped away the mud from her face, clearing her nose and mouth.
“Turn her on her side, it will help her to breathe,” he instructed firmly sitting back to allow Galean to roll her onto her side, her long hair falling about her, much of it stuck in mud.
“What happened?” Morad asked, standing back and watching on with anxiety.
“The crowd became over excited when I announced who she was,” Anvin replied shamefully, pacing to and fro in front of the fire.
“That probably was not the best of ideas father,” Aabe retorted, the maid setting down a bowl of water and handing him cloth.
“I can see that now in hindsight,” the priest apologised. Galean held on to Celestine’s lif
eless hand as Aabe began to clean her.
“She will need to be undressed so that I can attend her wounds,” Aabe ordered looking up at the men who were now looking at one another in awkward silence.
“I will do that,” announced Mathilda coming towards them with a wooden bed, “I will take this to the guest room, if you will kindly follow me.”
Galean, Morad and Aabe lifted Celestine between them and followed Mathilda and Evalean across the hall into a small room. Anvin stayed behind to meet with the elders before heading to the emergency summoning. Gently the men lay Celestine upon the bed, her hands falling to the ground. Mathilda and Evalean shooed them out of the room before undressing her gently and putting on a linen nightdress and washing her down carefully.
“You may come in now Aabe,” Evalean instructed, her hair rolled up and her sleeves, ready to assist him. Mathilda exited as Aabe entered, sighing as the door closed behind them. Turning to Morad and Galean she smiled weakly.
“My old friend, at last we meet again,” she said walking to Galean and wrapping him in a friendly hug before letting him go, looking up into his pale and forlorn face. “What is it?” Mathilda asked seriously.
“She will be alright?” Galean asked her quietly. Mathilda looked at him curiously.
“Why did you call her Eveline?” she enquired seriously her hands on her hips. Morad stood beside Mathilda and joined her in her curiosity.
“That was her name back on earth,” he explained quietly looking over their shoulders at the door wishing he could be inside with her.
“You know her?” Morad asked bluntly, looking at his friend with suspicion.
“I was one of her guardians,” Galean explained flatly. “Before I left and returned home.”
“You seem to care for her greatly,” mused Mathilda, her brown eyes large and knowing.
“She was married to my best friend,” Galean replied flatly a frown appearing on his brow, “did she arrive with anyone when you found her?” he asked darkly.
One Crown & Two Thrones: The Guardians Page 44