“The risk involved is that you put something of yourself into the place you go. That is why you must know the place, so that you can propel yourself back. You see, you use part of your mind to seek the place; it is not enough to just remember it.” Seeing the startled looks on his friends' faces, Belyn tried to reassure them. “You do not have much to worry about, I am sure of that. I have read that those with the ability to focus through the stones hardly ever make a mistake, as their mind is subconsciously trained to work in a specific way when focussing.”
“Bel, exactly where did you find all of these records?” asked a slightly mollified and yet somewhat confused Raoul.
“In the order's library, wedged into the cover of a book on focussing. It was the strangest thing, but it fell out of the shelf when I was down there. I sat there the entire night reading his notes. It seems that the only other to have studied the stones as I do has sort of become our benefactor, at least in the knowledge. Anyway, he wrote that he had tried this with some strong-willed, and, it seems, very rich merchant, who claimed to be able to focus. The merchant seemed to be doing it correctly but then became confused when irritated by a noise from nearby. He carried on talking but the merchant became distant, as if he was somewhere he should not be. The man lost his mind and never came back into himself. For all I know he lives still. The point my friend is this: He may have thought he had, but he did not have the strength of will and training to make this work. We do. I have tried it before many times, and I will prove my point by showing it to you now.”
Keldron watched as Belyn seated himself more securely. He closed his eyes and felt the power of Belyn's focus as it came in harmony with the stone's. He felt something unique through the power, as if a sort of longing was coming from Belyn's very soul. As he felt his friend reach out to a place not too distant it was as if he had become somehow less substantial. As the moments passed, the power of Belyn's focus seemed to dissipate, becoming somehow far off. Then Keldron felt a sudden lurch as Belyn's awareness returned suddenly. His focus had disappeared entirely.
“You can both open your eyes now, my friends,” said the extremely calm voice. Keldron blinked as the red flame hit his eyes and saw Raoul doing the same. Beyond the fire stood their friend with a brace of Rogan birds. The plump game birds had already been dressed and were ready to cook. “See how easy it is? I have no doubt you were both tracking my focus so you will have felt how it should be. It will be no problem for either of you. While I teach you, I will cook these over the fire.”
Over the next hour or so, vegetables and even a large flagon of Orit joined Belyn's birds. Keldron found that it was even easier than he had expected. He stretched out his mind towards the room and located it easily. He came to understand that if you knew what you were looking for, the process became simplified. Later that night, having finished off the grandest of camp meals and having become mellowed by the drink, the three men turned in for the night. Through his stone Belyn created a fire from pure energy that would keep them warm, not that they needed much more heat for it was a warm night. Keldron was amazed at how easily they had picked up Belyn's style of focussing. As he drifted ever towards sleep, he noted that his personal scepticism, although never voiced, must surely be reassessed.
Keldron awoke to the noise of munching in his ear. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he opened his eyes and found he was nose to nose with one of the pack horses. The horse flicked its ears at him and carried on eating. Not that it had dome any harm, but Keldron decided that maybe the horses should be picketed in the future, if they ever came across another place such as this. He rose and stretched, finding aches in places he didn't think possible. As he rubbed the pain out of his back, he noticed that all was grey and murky outside the ring of trees they had camped in. He walked quietly to the entrance to the grove and found that he could not see a great distance. The air felt moist to the touch, which told Keldron that the gorgeous summer they had been experiencing would soon be at an end, if only temporarily. He checked the rope across the entrance and to his amazement found that they had not in fact been robbed as he personally swore would happen as soon as they left the city. He laughed to himself. “Not been out of a city in years. How would I know what to expect any more?”
He walked around the glade, checking on the horses. They seemed in fine spirits, despite the gloomy morning. He had always loved this time of the morning. Early in the day was the time for reflection, when one could get the most done with the least interruption. Even now outside the order, merchants would be about their business and market traders would be setting up their stalls. As one tried to get up earlier to avoid the noise, the whole city seemed to follow in the great race of life. One old fool had even suggested to the guild that they set a curfew on the city so that he could get work done in peace without any noise. Keldron personally suspected that he only wanted this as a means to have a quiet lie-in of a morning. The old fool was never up before lunchtime, and irritable at best for the rest of the day.
Although he could have taken the fog as a bad omen, Keldron was somewhat comforted by it. It was as if he was in a large room, as opposed to outside, where there were no limits. He was not afraid of the outdoors, but having been cooped up inside a small study for so many years, he had grown used to the situation. The fog showed that nature had a way of reminding one of these points. There was a faint glow where the sun should have been, but otherwise the only illumination came from the flame Belyn had created the previous night. He returned to warm himself as the moisture from the fog now clung to his clothes. As he stood with his palms pushed as near to the flame as was comfortable, he heard a stirring to his right. As he looked, both of his friends awoke. Belyn sat still and silent, appraising the conditions to which he had awoken. Raoul on the other hand closed his eyes again. Keldron was about to admonish his friend when he felt the surge of a focus and Raoul suddenly had an armful of fruit. “Breakfast is served, my friends,” the stringy man said with a small bow of his head.
They consumed a meal of fruit with skin moistened from the fog. Occasionally, tendrils of fog would wisp through the trees or entrance as if it were somehow alive and trying to beat back an invisible barrier. Raoul expressed the opinion that he found this unnerving, and managed somehow to get even closer to the fire without burning himself. Keldron personally found it odd that someone could be at such personal odds with Mother Nature, but then, his friend had never been one of a normal ilk. After the small but very healthy feast they packed up and readied the horses to move on. Keldron removed the damp rope from the trees, finding it very cold to the touch. He thought nothing of it and coiled it neatly. Belyn directed the horses through the glade's entrance, and out onto the track used by all hereabouts.
Raoul peered in to the murky morning. “Bel, how in the name of the Gods are we supposed to be able to see in this? The only reason I know we are on the road is because of where we slept last night.”
Belyn reached over to grasp Raoul's shoulder. “Have faith my brother. Mother Nature intends us no harm, besides which, the road is pretty straight for many leagues. I am sure this fog will lift eventually, but before then at least we have a better chance of remaining anonymous.”
“Sure,” retorted Raoul with a sarcastic lilt. “If we have no chance of knowing where we are, how will anybody else?”
Keldron had to agree on this point; the treetops provided a faint darkness off to each side as they moved along slowly, the thudding of the draft horses' hooves seemingly muffled by the moisture in the morning air. A few morning birds could be heard, but not one could be seen. Keldron surmised that while they couldn't build houses or cook food, birds had at least the sense to not move in such murky conditions. “I miss the noise, personally,” said Keldron, adjusting his cloak to cover him from the moisture in the air. “This journey is serene, the tranquillity is most overwhelming. I miss the hustle and bustle of busy streets, the traders hawking their wares and the children getting underfoot. I suppose I have beco
me domesticated in an urban way.”
Belyn and Raoul looked at him, and then at each other. They then exploded into laughter. This lasted for a minute or so, with Keldron getting redder in the face as time went on. Belyn eventually managed to draw a breath. Wiping tears from his eyes he managed to at last say something. “Oh, that was funny, Kel. Only a day out of Eskenberg and already you are complaining about the lack of noise and people. How do you think you will feel about it after a month? Or six? You will just have to deal with it my brother, because I cannot say when next we will be in a city that size. This fog seems to take away all sound. How do you deal with that?”
Keldron looked at the moisture visible around them. “This makes me feel enclosed and safe. In a way it reminds me of my study.”
Raoul barked a laugh. “Climb up one of those trees and then you will feel at home in your eyrie, Kel. Just don't get too used to the safe feeling. You need to keep your guard up out here. 'Tis true we could cope with most things, but you never know what could await you around the next bend. In a way it is as dangerous as living in a city, in other ways it is much, much safer. As long as you keep your eyes open we will all be safe.”
Belyn looked at Raoul, one eyebrow raised in enquiry. “Since when did you become the rural expert, my brother?”
“Since I realised that one day I would be travelling away from the order, possibly for good. I purchased books on country travel and they have proved very useful. I don't know why someone would choose to write such books, but the fact remains that they have been very useful to me.” Keldron could see that his friend was deadly serious so he did not voice the comment that the book must have been written by a delusional moron. Some of the book's passages made sense but those such as spitting on the ground whenever you made a right turn at sunset were just plain stupid.
The conversation continued with the subtle undertones of Raoul and Belyn's bickering well into the morning, by which time the fog had receded somewhat to reveal a clear sky and the welcome feel of the sun. The disappearance of the moisture left them all feeling much better. Keldron went as far as to remove his cloak, but his friends maintained the illusion of their disguise, despite the fact that they were getting somewhat more than warmed. The horses even seemed to enjoy the day, flickering their ears and neighing high spiritedly. This caused Belyn to become a little vexed, as he started voicing the fact that the merchant who sold him the wagon and horses said they were as docile as could be. Keldron intervened, reminding him of how euphoric he felt to have the fog lift and the sunshine down upon him.
This tended to be the pattern of the days, to Keldron's dismay. They would rise early, and ride until late, all the while Belyn teaching them new focuses or arguing with Raoul. Keldron tried to put all sounds coming for his two friends out of his mind, and concentrate for the most part on a focus that he had taken great pleasure in learning. The woods they tended to pass through were not as extensive as the great forest, which was still a way off to the North and West.
When they reached more open land, Keldron employed the focus of farseeing. Holding a heavy but small rectangle of copper-stained quartz, he tried to put out of his mind the snappy comments coming form his two friends about why a particular focus should be called one thing and not another. He concentrated on the stone and looked to the distant horizon. As Belyn had shown him, the horizon seemed to come rushing to him; Belyn also said that with practice they would be able to control the speed with which the focus moved their sight, thus making it a lot more useful. The routine was good for him though. It was nice to know what he was going to do.
It was much like it had been in the order, and Keldron once again found that he had a sense of belonging, even if it was only in the group of three. Both Keldron and Raoul found that with the myriad of stones Belyn had brought, their skills increased dramatically. No longer did they just use the abrasive focus associated with their old stones. Many of the new focuses were a lot subtler, giving them a greater feel for what they were trying to accomplish.
The wagon moved slowly enough for Keldron to walk alongside and he did this often, if not for the exercise then for the peace from his friend's niggling arguments. Raoul felt that everything should be compartmentalised and categorised with names. Belyn had a flair for such things, which led them to bickering arguments. Where Belyn wanted to call one focus 'Stroddick's Variable Length Vision Enhancement', Raoul wanted it known simply as 'Far Sight'. Each won about the same amount of arguments and by the time the Merdon forest came into view, there was a scrap of paper with a set of extravagant names and a set of utilitarian names. Raoul was going to make some order proud with his administrative abilities, Keldron was sure of that.
He was using the far sight focus to keep an eye on what was ahead when they met the track leading down to the river ferry. At this point in the Hotiari River the current was sluggish enough and the bank gradual enough that a large square raft could be pulled across by using horses, wheels and clever engineering. As they descended toward the grinning owner, the forest rushed towards Keldron's eyes in the focus. He could see several figures rushing about just within the borders of the forest. He jumped, forgetting for a moment where he was, then sat back down on the wooden driver's bench.
“What is it Kel?” asked Raoul.
“There are many men running about just beyond the tree line.” “Could you see what they were doing?”
“No. But they had weapons and they looked to be chasing something. They were of dark complexion with long dark hair. That was all I could see.”
Raoul mused on what Keldron had described for a moment. “It could be the Merdonese on a hunt. However, it is unlikely that they would be travelling this far south as they prefer to occupy the central region of the forest.”
“Are there any other possibilities?” Keldron had an idea who else it may have been. “The only other people of that complexion that I have heard of in this region were those mentioned in the sketchy reports about the impalings. I am loath to think however that they would show themselves to anyone, especially after such dreadful murders.”
“True. But they did not know they were being watched whoever they were. I am certain they did not have the advantage of far sight such as you do with the focus. Chances are they could not see us at all from so far across the river.”
“All I'm saying is that we should be careful, my brother.” Raoul grinned. “Aren't we always?”
“Well I would say that some of your discussions with Belyn have tended towards the more vocal side, Raoul. Remember, we are not the only people to travel these roads, whatever we may think, and we are certainly not going to hold to a disguise with the content of your discussions being spoken loud enough to show that simple merchants are a bit more knowledgeable than they look.”
Raoul raised his hands in defeat. “Okay, okay Kel. Point taken. I will strive to moderate my tone in the hope of fooling the stupid. But I think you are maybe seeing more to this than you should.”
Belyn strode back towards the wagon from the gatehouse to the ferry. As he reached the pair of merchants on the wagon he appeared to be fuming. He grumbled under his breath and was positively red faced as he slumped down next to his friends. It was Keldron's turn to grin this time. “Trouble, old friend?”
“That blasted boatman wanted a gold piece for us to cross the river. A whole blasted gold piece!”
“The problem being…?” Keldron replied. From what he knew that was the standard charge for a load as big as theirs was.
“The problem being, Kel that I couldn't bargain him down! I mean how is one supposed to keep one's wits sharp if a simple boatman is not prepared to haggle? He just stood there and quoted a standard price.” Nothing either of his friends could say would placate Belyn in any way, so it was that they drove past and exchanged pleasantries with a very smug ferryman whilst Belyn looked intently at some point off in the distance.
The ferry platform was actually quite great in area, and Keldron hopped gingerly do
wn while trying to keep his balance. It was chance that they were alone for the trip, as across the water there was quite a gathering of people intent on crossing to the other side. Keldron leaned against the post of a railing for support, while he watched the water move slowly beneath the platform.
“First time over water?” enquired Raoul, who had obviously had enough of the moody Belyn for one day.
“Yes, as a matter of fact it is. I feel better than I thought I would.”
Raoul peered into the murky depths of the river. “This is easy. You wait until we have to make a sea voyage. The crests and troughs will have your stomach dancing a jig constantly for days. I personally don't have a problem with it.”
“Oh and since when were you the seasoned mariner? You joined the order when you were young.”
Raoul looked out across the expanse of water. “Before I decided that my life was going in this direction, I had the fortune to go on a couple of short fishing trips with my father and his friends. It was fun back then; we would pack all sort of nice foods and go out for at least a few days, catching all manner of fish. My father used to tell me I had natural sea legs, as I wasn't ill once. Apparently, if you don't take to the movement of the water the first time, you never do. Or so they used to say.”
“I think it's a case of willpower,” observed Belyn, who had crept up on the pair of them. “We have trained so much during our years at the order that nothing should be able to prevent us from being able to cast a focus. I bet that same procedure can be used to settle the stomach at sea.”
With the others looking at him in confusion, he continued to explain. “When we focus, we block out everything except for us, the stone and our purpose; well for basic focuses at least. All we need to do is concentrate as if about to perform a focus and block out any ill feeling we may get.”
The Focus Stone (The Tome of Law Book 1) Page 13