The Focus Stone (The Tome of Law Book 1)

by Matthew W. Harrill

  Keldron tilted his head to one side as he gazed at the water in thought. “It's possible I suppose. We do have the training to concentrate enough, but we will not be finding out any time soon.”

  “Well one little experiment was a success. The boatman tried to take a peek in the back of the wagon as we boarded the ferry, and as soon as he peered around the boxes inside, he lost interest and went off the ferry.”

  Raoul looked sceptical “Could he not have been just looking anyway? I mean he could have seen nothing of interest without the magic working.”

  “The point is that the magic was working, Raoul. I felt the focus activate as he peered in. He definitely moved on as a result of the magic, else he would have peered a great deal longer.” Belyn seemed mightily pleased with himself, standing there with his large arms crossed, and a grin planted on his red-bearded face. Keldron thought it best to keep quiet, and hoped Raoul did the same. It looked like Belyn's game of one-upmanship with the ferryman had just taken a dramatic turn, though apparently the ferryman would never know of this.

  The far shore inched closer, and Keldron could now pick out individual faces without the help of the focus stone. All sorts were waiting to cross over. There was another wagon, several horsemen, and even a muddy peasant. The peasant must have saved a lifetime to be able to afford the crossing, but the others all looked like they were free enough with their money to be able to afford it with ease. The horsemen sat impatiently astride their steeds, more than eager to cross the river. The horses could obviously feel their riders' moods as they pranced and whinnied restlessly. The noise echoed across the water as if the spirits of the horses had taken flight in a rush to cross the expanse before their owners. The ropes and chains on either side of the ferry could be seen now as it reached closer to shore and the mechanism that rose out of the dock like some ancient wooden battlement.

  “We had better be ready to get out of here quick,” Raoul said as he climbed in to the wagon, checking the reins were free as he did so. “Those horsemen look so eager to get on this ferry that we won't have a chance to get off!”

  As they neared the shore, Keldron checked that the horses were tied safe and not likely to be lost in the confusion that would so obviously ensue. Belyn checked the supplies once more, making sure they were all packed tightly and covered with the cloaks. Keldron could feel his friend probing the focus gently to check it was intact. “Meticulous to a fault, Bel. It's not as if anyone would have broken a shield of pure energy whilst we were crossing a river.”

  Belyn snorted in reply. “You think you know everything about the focus process? I have let you know a great many things about the focussing our benefactor practised. You think you know everything?” He bent close to Keldron and whispered. “I have told Raoul, just as I tell you now. There are limits. Depending on the type of stone used, certain elements will affect the focus. For example, I would not be able to create the red fire on the ferry because we are afloat. It is affected by the proximity of water.”

  “But why tell me this now?”

  Belyn looked Keldron right in the eyes. “Because if ordinary people knew that the focus could be affected by elements they would strive to control it, and us. I would never have been able to sell the stones to finance us if the greedy merchants had known there were limits. The common people would view us differently if they knew we could not do everything. That is the power the guild holds over everyone. If they thought for one second that we were not in total control of the Law, and doubted us, it would lead eventually to one thing and one thing only. Anarchy. I am not prepared to say something out loud that could be heard by anybody. Here is probably the only place we could talk with freedom. You should beware of telling anybody what I have told you. Our benefactor knew this and I think that part of the reason he disappeared so suddenly was that he was going to let the knowledge out. I do not condone the order for having a hand in his disappearance but I do know whatever was done was done out of sheer desperation. The people have something to believe in. The power of the orders is what has kept people sane and under relative control. You must ensure that the people have no cause to doubt us.”

  Keldron steadied his breath, still trying to accept what he had been told. He had thought as others did that the only limit was the power of an individual. To now know there were others was somewhat of a shock. “This will never pass my lips. I swear it.” Belyn nodded and then with a cursory glance at the wagon, he walked around the front. One of the pack horses, a dun coloured one, nudged him gently. Giving it a quick rub behind its ears he jumped up into the back of the wagon taking great care not to look at anything lest the focus be triggered by mistake.

  The ferry bumped into the dock with a shudder making the horses start. Before they could hesitate, Raoul shook the reins and they trotted forward. As Keldron suspected, the horsemen did try to push forward to get on the ferry, but the bulk of their wagon prevented them from moving far. He realised he had been obviously wrong though. The look on the faces of the horsemen was not impatience, but fear. One of them was shaking visibly. As they rode past, Keldron looked back. “Did you see those three? They were scared stiff!”

  Raoul pursed his lips. “Nobles. Could be anything. They probably chased after the wrong man's daughter.” Belyn let out a loud guffaw in reply. The other wagon rode past, with the driver looking almost as afraid as the three horsemen. “Him too,” observed Raoul.

  They made their way slowly up the shallow incline that was supposed to be a road but was more a quagmire of mud, the horses straining against their harnesses as they maintained a precarious grip on the mud underfoot. At the top of the slope the commoner stood calmly waiting.

  “Greetings, friend,” shouted Belyn. “What news from the forest?” The man stood there watching the horses slowly climbing the slope.

  “Maybe he is deaf,” whispered Raoul to Keldron.

  “I can hear you well enough mate,” the man said directly to Raoul with an admonishing glance. “The question you really want answered is can your horses make it up this slope without breaking a leg. At the moment I would say no. But were you chaps to jump down and ease the load somewhat I am sure that the horses would greatly appreciate it. Here. Give me the reins.” The man held out a mud-encrusted hand. Raoul, caught without a word for once looked at his friends and then back at the man, who wiggled his fingers impatiently. Keldron took the lead and jumped down, his boots landing in an inch thick puddle of slick mud. As the others jumped down the other side, the horses almost visibly jumped forward.

  The man, who was already extremely muddy, guided the horses and wagon up the remaining slope and onto level ground. Having no riders, the horses tied to the back had a much easier time of it, though Keldron could see that they would have in fact had a big problem had they remained on the wagon. The muddy man turned back to them. “A wise choice gentlemen. I truly feared for your horses just then.”

  Belyn looked back down the slope. “You look like you have done that before, friend.”

  The man smiled modestly. “One picks up certain skills when one works in an environment like this.”

  “Ah,” Belyn smiled. “So you work for the rip-off merchant on the other side of the river?”

  “No, he works for me. I find it easier to have a smarter dressed employee on the other side of the river as most of the merchants respect that. They see him and pay the price asked. I can tell you are either extremely naive or this is your first venture; else you would have heard of me. I have no need for fancy clothes, and people respect me for who I am, not what I wear.”

  “A truer sentence was never spoken,” agreed Raoul. “Many the time has been when my long shanks have led people to believe I was something I was not. Well like you said, this is our first venture, and if the looks on the faces of those horsemen are representative of conditions around here, we would like it to not be our last.”

  The ferryman grinned at Raoul and then looked in the direction of the slowly moving barge in the river.
“They are just a bit too superstitious. The tribesmen are on a ritual hunt that involves no actual blood being shed. It is, however, very noisy.

  Those three were considering interrupting the group who were seen near here a while back. As they passed me, I reminded them about the legend of the noble who chased the tribesman until he realised that he was the hunted. They apparently relieved him of several crucial parts of his body. That was enough to put the fear of the Gods into them. Especially when told how the entire region is their sacred ground and their spirits can hear any bad word.”

  “I don't believe I have heard that legend before,” Keldron answered.

  The mud-encrusted man smiled. “Few have, pal…well about six or seven have, now that I have told you. I didn't mean for the wagon driver to overhear when I was telling the pompous fools on horses, but the stubborn hear what they want to hear, and the gullible will believe anything.” Belyn threw his head back in laughter. Wiping a tear from his eye he carried on chuckling for a short while. The mud man smiled even more. “I'm glad you appreciate that.”

  “That was worth a gold piece for a crossing any day,” said Belyn, now clearly in a jovial mood. “Of course you realise that now they will go telling that to anybody who will listen.”

  “Maybe it will stop the fools coming over here in search of trophies then.” “Trophies?”

  The ferryman's expression darkened. “They come over here pretending to be merchants and then go gallivanting off in to the forest in search of wildlife. Hogs, deer, and bears; they all live here, and the rich see it as somewhat of a playground. Those of us who have lived here for so long have never been happy with it, but what can we do? There are several communities within the great forest, not that you would know it. And between us we do our best to prevent this happening. Even the tribesmen do their bit in their own way, setting supposed wards and using their various incantations and tree knowledge to divert the rampant maniacs away from the game.”

  “Do you not hunt them yourselves?” asked Raoul. “Surely one set of rules cannot apply to one set of people. The Old Law says”

  “I know what the old law says,” snapped the mud-encrusted man. “We do our best to live by it, truly we do. But there are circumstances when we cannot. I know as well as any man that we cannot judge one particular man in one way and another by different means. But what would you have us do? Family of mine have been attacked by drunken idiots on horseback, run down in the middle of the road because these so-called nobles were too gone in the drink to be able to control their horses in time. Should we allow people such as these to despoil our homes with their presence? The old law is a way of peace, and stick to it we will, but we also have the right to defend our homes.”

  Raoul looked crestfallen. Keldron knew the man had said this before, but he also knew the man spoke truthfully and from the heart. The passion in his voice was genuine. Reaching out his hand, Raoul clasped the ferry man's hand and shook. “You are right. Of course you are. It seems nothing is perfect, not even the old law.”

  “In truth it surprised me somewhat to hear the old law mentioned by a townie,” the man replied. “I was not sure anyone from a city as large as Eskenberg would have ever heard of the old law. It seems only us rural folk seem to believe in it.”

  “You would be surprised how many people do choose to live by it, my friend. The most unlikely person would abide by it. You can never tell.”

  The man eyed the three of them. “Merchants especially. Why would three merchants, to whom profit is everything, be interested in the old Law?”

  Raoul winked at him. “Like I said, the most unlikely people.”

  “Okay, so we all have our little secrets. Just be careful that yours doesn't slip. I have a feeling you will want to visit the tribesmen for whatever reason you deem fit, so take my advice. When you get to the ruined house along this road, go behind it and take the track; the road leads to the northern boundary of Merdon, and will take you nowhere near the tribes. It is but one precaution to protect our community from these marauding lunatics. The tribes prefer it this way too.” Raoul offered his hand again, and the ferryman took it and shook it. Then he did the same with Keldron and finally Belyn.

  As he climbed back onto the wagon, Belyn turned. “Forgive my outrage from before; I feel now that a gold piece will not be more wisely spent. May I have your name if it is no trouble?”

  The mud stained man bowed. “I am called Eregon the Ferry Master, friend to the tribes and gatekeeper to the forest of Merdon. Know that you travel in good company when you travel with Keldron Vass, noble sirs. He is known by the tribes, and all with him are welcome into our forest.” This caused startled looks from all three friends.

  “How do you know me?” Keldron asked. He had certainly never come into contact with the Merdonese before, though he had studied the Night of the Spears extensively. “Like I said, we all have our secrets. But understand this: The tribes know you, and what you stand for. That alone is the reason you will be permitted in the forest.” Eregon waved them on as the ferry was slowly approaching with another load of passengers, and it would surely be time for more to appear from this side.

  As they rode on, Belyn looked back. “So much for our cover. How did he know you Kel?”

  Keldron raked a hand through his hair, brushing it back from his eyes. “I have no idea. But I am sure intrigued as to what awaits us in the forest.”

  The silence was almost oppressive as they rode up the forest track. The novelty of the silence had soon worn off, and the rare call of a tree driller or any of the other forest birds became eagerly awaited by all three. It was not that the forest was menacing in any way, but the sheer enormity of it dwarfed all perceptions the three had had of what they would expect. The trunks of the trees varied enormously. Here and there amongst the tall broad trunks would appear a gnarled old oak, surviving as if by magic. The largest of the trees spoke of a steadfast resolution and an endurance unmatched by most living things. Keldron knew that some of the trees they saw grew so slowly that the people who saw these trees as saplings had probably faded in to antiquity, isolated from the memories of those alive today.

  The sheer majesty of the trees was impressive, and Keldron felt dwarfed by them. It was no wonder that people such as the ferry master felt so strong. It was mans' nature to explore the unexplored, and to adapt the environment to his own needs that had them so frightened, he could see it now. He reasoned that the source of the passion in the man's words came from a sense of purpose: that being to protect his home from those that would abuse it. They had passed the ruined building a while back; at least they hoped they had. Wooden struts entombed in a shroud of moss stuck up at them from the side of the road. Crude walls had tumbled as the passage of time had eroded whatever had stuck them together. The road they had been following carried on North and West, as if to go straight into the centre of the forest.

  After a brief search, Raoul had found a track through what they reasoned to be the garden of the building. Some careful manoeuvring and blindfolds on the horses had let them through an impossibly small opening in the hedgerow and onto a well-kept track that was hidden completely from the main road. It had taken them from the sunny glades and the obvious life of the forest to one much more natural, much more in tune with nature. Those who walked this track respected such things and the size of the trees along the track emphasised that point dramatically. The track itself was clear and well defined, evidence of some use and well tending. The bright green tendrils of moss reached towards the light above the canopy. As they intruded into its simple existence it disappeared under the wheels as if crushed out of existence. As the wagon passed by, Keldron noticed that it sprang back up as if hardly touched. The feel underfoot was springy as well, and masked the sound of his boots on the track. So it had been for the day or so they had been moving down the track. Each felt the sense of solitude that surrounded the others and tried to make small chat to while the day away, but in the end they were always silenced.<
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  “Silence is Golden,” someone had once told Keldron when he was but an inquisitive child. Silence was never more golden than the present. A scurrying squirrel caught his attention. He watched it as it scampered up the trunk of one of the huge trees. It paused, regarding him with dark, inquisitive eyes. For a second the two just stared at each other, and then with a flash of red the squirrel darted off into the lower branches of the tree. Keldron was surprised it had stayed so close for so long but welcomed the company, however small. It occurred to him that nature did not have much experience of man in these parts. It would be easy for someone of a baser nature to turn much of what he saw to his advantage. There truly was a need for those few to protect this forest. Keldron felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Raoul staring off into the distance. “What is it?”

  “Look,” was the only reply he was given. Keldron followed Raoul's gaze off into the distance, and beyond the slow moving wagon to an opening between the trees that revealed a lake.

  Even from this distance Keldron was struck by the vision; the lake had the bluest water he had ever seen. Even the green of the track was offset beautifully.

  Belyn wiped a tear from the corner of his eye with one great hand. “I have never seen anything as beautiful. It was as if the atmosphere of the forest was cleansing us – preparing us to see this. It's no wonder Eregon did not want people to invade the forest.”

  Keldron could not help but agree wholeheartedly. Like Raoul however, he simply could not find the words to express what he was seeing. If paradise could descend from the home of the gods then it had settled here. They rode slowly towards the lake, down the gentlest of slopes. The blue of the lake filled the gap between the great trees, and it also filled their vision. Belyn drove the wagon almost in a trance, and Keldron barely felt the presence of Raoul next to him; nor for that fact could he even feel himself walking. It was mere coincidence that as they neared the lake the sun chose to shine through the clouds, and a breeze gently ruffled its surface. The vision was rapture. The ripples in the lake caught the sun's rays and mesmerised the three men. Keldron felt he had found the answers to all his questions. He knew that he need never go anywhere else again.