"Do we still make for The Gill?" asked Nightjar.
Her voice broke the silence and the mood.
"Aye! It is still our best bet," said Ravenscort, "but we can't leave today. We will wait until the morrow. It is too dangerous travelling at night. The Fell are about and the Arnn Rider is still searching."
Turning to Peter, he asked,
"Tell us whence you came and how you are in Demeter."
"Demeter?" questioned Peter. "Is that this world?"
Nightjar answered. "You are in Demeter, one of the seven great worlds. What is your story, Peter Moonchild?"
Peter sat thinking for a few moments, whilst the others waited for him to start.
"My name is Peter Calender and I am not sure how I came to be here, or if here is real. My home was the small village of Lightholm and I entered a garden of a large house and everything started to change. The garden transformed from being derelict and dull to one of vitality, colour and light. There was a column at the centre of the garden and I was drawn to it. A light appeared and I seemed to fall into the pool and found myself here. I am not sure that this world and you are real. Maybe you are all part of a dream or nightmare. Maybe I am ill and hallucinating all this. I just don't know. My home was on the planet Earth. It is very different in many ways, but similar in others. We have only one sun."
"A column, a pool and a fall? Earth? One sun? I know nothing of this, but I do know that your coming was foretold. Peter Calender, you are the Moonchild. Long has your arrival been augured and I was sent to welcome you. It appears Fell Craven also knew of your coming and sent the Arnn Rider to the appointed place and at the right time to capture or destroy you." said Nightjar.
"It is fortunate that fate has brought us together, but not so for my brother and the Trekkers. I have heard of the Moonchild and the prophecy, but I know not whether you are the child. We shall see, in time, if we see out the next few days. At The Gill there are wiser heads than mine, and they will know if you are indeed the Moonchild and guide us to further action."
Neither Peter nor Nightjar made any mention of the Moonstone and it seemed prudent, for the time being and Ravenscort didn't ask. The day was wearing on and the light was starting to dim.
Ravenscort stood, drew his sword and said, "Come, Peter! I promised you some tutoring on the use of the sword. It is dimming outside and we should be safe for a while."
Peter rose and followed outside onto the grassy hillock. He drew his sword and Ravenscort instructed him how to hold it in balance and to parry and thrust. Exercise followed exercise and Peter began to get a feel for the blade. Sweat flowed with the exertion and after a while Ravenscort suggested a sparring bout. Peter, slightly shorter, faced his opponent and steel touched steel. Slowly at first they attacked and defended, with no real force, but the pace increased and Nightjar stood with gaping mouth as the blades became a blur. Peter grew in confidence, but at that moment Ravenscourt feigned to the left, moved to the right and with a quick flick of the wrist, sent Peter's sword spinning to the ground. Both Ravenscort and Nightjar applauded.
"Well done, Peter! You are a natural. There is much for you to learn, but you have the making of a fine swordsman. You will not dishonour my brother's blade."
Peter wiped his brow, and the elation he had been feeling ebbed away at the thought of the owner of his sword.
"Your brother was a good swordsman?"
"He was indeed! A better one than me."
"But that didn't protect him."
"No, it didn't! Weapons and force can always be overcome. Remember that Peter. It is your wits that will keep you alive more than force of arms. Come, it grows dark. We must take shelter before the night seekers start their hunt."
The twin suns were sinking to the horizon in unison and the fiery blaze of their setting indicated the end of another day. Inside, another meal was prepared and when it was completed and cleared, the three took to their beds in preparation for the journey ahead.
Peter slept a deep sleep that was dreamless. He was unaware of Ravenscort rising and looking out through the doorway into the dark night. The wind blew gently, stirring the reeds and there were no other sounds. He thought of his brother and silently shed tears. They had shared many happy days when they were children and he remembered them with joy. Breaking the tranquillity, Ravenscort heard the distant flapping of great leathery wings and reached for his sword. The sound was approaching quickly, but was not yet upon them. Just before he drew his blade, the sound of the wings wheeled to the East and a primal cry echoed over the land. Ravenscort realised that he had stopped breathing and took a breath of air, as the tension faded. The Arnn Rider was hunting, but it had not found its quarry.
Looking around the shelter he noted how peaceful Peter and Nightjar were. If they only knew what lay ahead. He wished he could sleep. It was years since he had had anything but disturbed slumber and he wondered if he would ever enjoy the sleep of the innocent again. Ghosts of those he had killed followed him into the fields of dreams and asked why. He gazed out at the crescent moon and the lonely fens. His heart called out for peace , but the reeds whispered, "Never".
He turned and went back to his bunk, alert. He was always alert. Being so might keep him and his companions alive a little longer.
Just prior to dawn, Ravenscort roused the others. He had prepared a cold breakfast and they ate without conversation. Provisions were collected and packed for their journey and the shelter was left ready for the next visitors. All three turned and took a final look at the room and wondered if they would experience such comforts again.
The morning was cold and grey as they ventured out. A light mist hung like shrouds over the sea of reeds. Each of the travellers was cloaked, armed and laden with enough food for at least four days. The rations were dry and unappetising, but would sustain the strength of the travellers. A blanket for each was carried in the packs. These would supplement the cloaks and provide an element of comfort and warmth.
Ravenscort retraced their journey through the reed beds, but there was no evidence of their earlier passing and if he hadn't told him they were retracing their steps, Peter would have had no idea that any had walked their path before. In a while, they left the wetlands and reclaimed the rocky slopes. They skirted around the edge of the fens and made rapid progress on the easier surface. Ravenscort took the lead and Nightjar accompanied Peter.
"It is real, Peter," Nightjar proffered. "I don't know how you arrived here or from whence you came, but you are meant to be here. Tell me about yourself and your world. I would like to know."
Peter told of his family. How his parents had died and how his grandmother had raised him and then of her illness and her passing. She listened with real compassion on her face and Peter was struck by her beauty and her strangeness. She was certainly like no other girl he had met. Her ivory eyes spoke of wisdom, kindness, empathy and he found himself enjoying her company. She seemed to be about the only good thing on this world, as he didn't really count Ravenscort. Ravenscort had a strength, almost a nobility in the way that he walked and held himself. Peter had the feeling that he was keeping much back from him, but then Peter knew he was keeping much back from the trekker.
Nightjar seemed fascinated by the mundane life Peter had led. Cars, school, television, airplanes, electricity all seemed like magic to her, much in the same way that she and her world were magical to him.
The morning passed agreeably for Peter and he almost forgot the danger that they were in. Around midday, Ravenscort found a secluded area surrounded by rocks that offered some protection from prying eyes. A cold lunch was consumed and, as soon as they could, they set off again.
Moving away from the border of the fenland, they began to climb and the scenery changed to one of steep narrow valleys with fast flowing streams. The land was grass covered and on the whole treeless. White rocks began to appear amongst the green, like bones, and after a while they made their way along a narrow steep valley. The sides had outcrops of limesto
ne and reminded Peter of ancient buildings. The day was warm and the two suns were beginning to make their path towards the horizon. The towering slopes cast shadow on the valley floor and the going, though easy underfoot, was wearing on the travellers. It had been a long day and Peter began to wonder when they would stop.
As if sensing his concern, Ravenscort turned and said, "Not much further. It is a bit of a climb, but we have made good pace and will arrive before darkness."
Neither Peter nor Nightjar had the strength to reply and trudged on. The way began to get steeper and the walls of the valley became oppressive, rising almost vertically on either side. Caves were evident in the white cliffs and Ravenscort turned off the trail and followed a steep, narrow pathway that climbed up the left side, shrouded in shadow. The way rose steadily and the party began to scramble, sending gravel and rocks falling behind them down to the valley bottom below. Peter turned and looked back the way they had come. He could just glimpse the green sea of the fens in the distance and beyond that, what appeared to be the blue of an ocean, but he couldn't be sure. What he did see in the distance did cause him concern.
"Are they crows?"
"Where?" said Nightjar.
"Towards the setting sun on the right."
"I see them! Fell!" exclaimed Ravenscort, "And they are heading this way. Come! We must hurry the last little way. It is steep, but not far. We must reach shelter before the Fell can catch up with us. They bring death to any caught in the open. You have seen what they can do!"
"Do you think they have seen us?"
"Their sight is greater than ours, but they would struggle to see us over that distance, but they are Fell Craven's agents and he will be directing them. Craven knows we are about and he has been hunting us. I do not know if he has found us or whether they are just searching. Either way, we must hurry. Come on!"
With added incentive and renewed strength, the party moved quickly up the narrow way. Peter kept taking furtive glances behind and he could gauge that the birds were gaining ground. The route, whilst not direct, was clearly in their general direction. He could tell that they were nearing as the black haze that he originally noticed, was becoming more distinct and was clearly a large flock.
The route took a sharp turn, and the cliff side fell away below them. It now was only passable in single file and one slip would prove fatal, as the fall was vertical and deep. Out of breath and exhausted, Peter followed Nightjar through an arc of rock and was struck by the vista that greeted him.
Standing still he could only manage, "Oh my!"
"Welcome to The Gill," declared Ravenscourt, with a broad smile. "We have made it before the Fell. We are safe for now. The Gill is sanctuary for all who are in need of shelter."
In front and below stretched another narrow valley, but this was so different from the one they had so recently passed through. This valley was more of a gorge, with a waterfall cascading from the top directly to the bottom in one single cataract. A rainbow hung in the air and the colours seemed to fill the rift with a new light, brighter than that he had experienced in the rest of the land. At its base was a tarn of silver water and in the midst of the tarn, shrouded by spray was a large building, part house, part manor. An area of woodland and fields filled the rest of the scene and Peter, once again, felt that he had entered a new land.
Nightjar also stood in a trance,
"Why! It is beautiful! I have heard of the place, but I never imagined it would be like this!"
"Be careful," said Ravenscort. "The Gill is a strange place. Not all experience the same here. Looks can be deceiving, as the magic of the valley is old and strong. Many become lost here and some remain. The Gill will search your soul to find what it is that you are looking for. Achieving your desire can be a two headed serpent, as what you desire is not always what you need. The Gill will test each of us and who knows what may result."
He stood looking down into the gorge for a while, drinking in the view.
"I do know that we are safe from the Arnn Rider and the Fell, whilst we are here. They dare not enter, as the Gill will not tolerate their obvious evil, but not all with bad intent are barred. The Gill will not allow acts of violence within its grounds. I hope that the watcher who lives here will aid us and give us direction, but I cannot be sure. Be of stout heart and purpose. I would not bring you here without hope, but the magic here is old and unpredictable. Come, let us make our arrival!"
With that warning in their hearts and minds, Nightjar and Peter followed Ravenscort on the descent to The Gill. The way was easier, and somehow the valley had breathed new life into the travellers. Peter felt Nightjar take his hand as they went and this helped to settle his mind. Ravenscort was a little way ahead and Nightjar took the opportunity to whisper to Peter.
"Ravenscort is right to warn us of this valley, but I know there is no evil at its heart. The Gill has a purpose and a role that is much older than any other. It was here before Fell Craven and it protects the deep laws. Mankind and the other races of Demeter are new in its eyes, but I hope it will help us in our quest to destroy Fell Craven. It was a risk to come here, but I agree with Ravenscort. We need guidance and I hope we may find it here."
It seemed to take them no time at all to reach the fields and the road to the house was wide and well kept. The land was park like with manicured hedges and neat fields growing a wide range of crops. The woodland was full of life and Peter realised how empty the rest of Demeter had been. Birds called, insects thrived and the air was warm and welcoming. A bumble bee flew past and its warm buzzing reminded him of Lightholm. For a fleeting moment, homesickness flickered across his mind, but then this was replaced with sadness, as he remembered that everything in England had changed for him when his grandmother had died.
As they approached the house, Peter was struck by its size. It reared up before them as they approached, solid and majestic and the drive became gravelled and there was a sense of familiarity. Two columns indicated they had arrived and a series of low stone steps led up to the entrance. The two doors had the patina of great age and yet had great strength. They were covered in designs carved deep into the oak. These were archaic and arcane and spoke of power. Peter recognised some of the symbols; the moon and the dual suns were obvious, as were symbols of the four elements, but there were many others he could not decipher and their purpose was a mystery. The heavy doors were bound in iron and were supported on great hinges. The heavy knob turned easily in Ravenscort's hand and the door opened smoothly with only a gentle push. The expected creak or groan was missing and silence greeted the party as the opening beckoned and they entered.
The three found themselves in a large entrance hall. Paintings covered the walls and it well lit by daylight streaming through a large stained glass window that was half way up a huge wooden staircase. The steps wended their way up to a second storey landing. Their eyes followed upwards and at the top, on the landing, stood a man dressed in a green gown that reached the floor. The stranger's face had a ruddy complexion and long hair, from both his beard and head, reached down below his shoulders and onto his chest. He began to descend the stairs and Peter noticed that his feet were bare. His long hand gripped the balustrade, but was more of a caress than support. He appeared ancient, but there was nothing frail about his presence; rather, he appeared like a rock that had weathered all that time could throw at it and not just survived, but thrived.
"Welcome! Welcome to The Gill! May you find sanctuary here and may your time here be restorative. Have no fear. The evil that pursues you cannot enter The Gill. Welcome Trekker. Welcome Nightjar. Welcome Peter Calender. I have been waiting for you."
Peter was shocked and amazed that his name was known and he couldn't help but blurt out the questions that were on his mind.
"How do you know who we are?" cried Peter. "Who are you? How do I know you are to be trusted?"
"Wise questions, Peter! Be at peace. I can vouch that you are safe from Fell Craven's servants, whilst here, but unfortunately,
I cannot guarantee your safety once you leave. How do I know who you all are? I am a watcher of all the worlds my child. I have seen where you have been. I have seen the paths you have taken to get here and where they may lead. Come, all of you! I know how weary you must be. We will eat and then there is time to sleep, rest and recover. Whatever happens here, you will need strength to face what the future has in store. My apology, I have failed to introduce myself. I am Constant."
At this point he had descended to the hallway and Peter realised just how tall their host was. Constant was a good two feet taller than he was and even towered above Ravenscort.
"Come! This way!"
They followed Constant through to a large, welcoming chamber. The dining room was dominated by an enormous wooden table that held a sumptuous banquet. Fresh fruit, breads, cheeses, wine, pastries of all manner covered the table, but they noticed there was no meat. Whatever else they may desire was provided in abundance, but no animal flesh was to be part of this feast.
Thanking their host, they took one of the four seats. Constant indicated they were to start, and that there was no formality. He took the unoccupied seat and poured a glass of wine for himself and the others, but did not partake of the meal. The rest took to the food with vigour. It was as if they hadn't eaten for months, despite them having eaten their lunch and breakfast rations during that day. The food was delicious, but much was unfamiliar to Peter. Nightjar and Ravenscort were equally ravenous, but soon all three had their fill and a deep fatigue descended upon them.
"Follow me! I will take you to your rooms."
Wearily, they stood, followed Constant out of the room and up the stairs to the next landing, where they were led down a long corridor with many openings on either side. Half way along, they stopped at a door which Constant opened. Nightjar was ushered in.
The Moonchild (The Moondial Book 1) Page 5