The Focus Stone (The Tome of Law Book 1)

by Matthew W. Harrill

  As the track began to angle to the Northwest, they came to a massive open valley. Broad as it was long, it provided a spectacular view of the scenery for leagues. The forest clearly went on as far as the eye could see, but Zya marvelled at the sheer immensity of it. The valley sloped away in the direction of the path, and must have been leagues long itself. As they stopped and admired the view, Zya followed the track off into the distance. It wound down through the grassy meadows, following a route prescribed for it by generations of swine. Far off in the distance, she was able to make out some sort of building. It was unclear as to what exactly it was, but it was clear that someone lived here. “Father, look.”

  Tarim followed the direction Zya pointed, pausing from whittling a stick into an arrow for Ju. He frowned, squinting against the light as he tried to make out what it was. “Definitely a building of some description. How long it takes us to get there depends on the terrain ahead, but I would say it might take us at least half a day.”

  Zya was excited at the prospect of meeting somebody after the loneliness of the past couple of days. The constant company of the village's inhabitants had left a space, which the company of trees and the distant pigs could not alleviate. That was the way of the traveller, she reminded herself. “Father, myself and Ju could ride on ahead if you like. Red could easily handle the both of us.”

  “Not this time Zya,” Tarim replied. “I know you are a grown young woman, and can hold your own. That much has been proven. But after the last misadventure, let us try at least some caution. Who knows what could await us down there? It would definitely be better if we all arrived together.”

  So the procession of four people and two horses slowly wound their way down the track and through the broad valley as they moved ever closer to the building at the other end. They actually managed to startle one mother and her little piglet into a squealing frenzy as they ran to escape the oncoming horses. It amazed Zya that they actually wandered into the open like this, but then since it was their land and their forest, why wouldn't they?

  The building slowly materialised into what looked to be an old grey stone farmhouse. It had a small hayloft next to it, or so it looked from the distance Zya was staring from. The meadow had been thoroughly dried out by the recent good weather and so it was difficult to tell whether the caravan had passed this way or not. Tarim assured the rest of them that they had not lost the path, as this had been the only way through the forest.

  They reached the building about midafternoon, hoping the inhabitants might have seen their friends passing. This hope was soon dashed as they got close to it. The windows were mere gaps in the walls, and many of the stones had crumbled and fallen where the ages-old mortar had disintegrated. What had looked to be a barn from far off was some sort of tarpaulin and pole construction that had evidently been left there by some passersby. Zya's disappointment showed plainly on her face, as it did on Ju's. She walked closer to the building, hoping to get a better view of the gloom inside.

  “Zya, stay back,” her father warned. “That looks unstable enough for a whisper to make the entire building crumble.”

  She looked carefully at the wall in front of her. It was true. Every smoothly chiselled stone looked ready to fall, and was leaning against another at some precarious angle. Seeing the imminent disaster that would occur should anyone touch the building, she stood well back out of the way. Cahal walked off around the side of the building as Tarim looked back up the valley. “I don't understand, Zya. We should have seen at least some sign of them as we rode down this valley. It is too big for them to have got through before we could see at least some sign of them.”

  “Tarim, come here,” shouted Cahal from the other side of the house. “Shall we go see what he wants, father?”

  “I think we should. Cahal is not known for shouting unless something really matters. Just stay away from the walls; that place is a death trap.”

  The three made their way around the house, and as soon as they turned the corner, they saw the reason for Cahal's shout. The four wagons were parked up neatly together against the back of the building. The horses were tethered together nearby, but there was nobody outside except for Jaden. The huge dark man grinned when he saw them, a sight that Zya had missed the past couple of days. His grin faded after a second though. “I think you three had better go and see Venla.” Motioning to them he led them towards the lead wagon. Zya climbed up and entered through the curtain door first to be grabbed and hugged by Venla, who was definitely not herself. She hugged Tarim as tightly, and Ju also. There was no sign of Layric.

  “Sit, please. All of you. It is so good to see your faces again. I know it has only been a couple of days but it feels like a lot longer to me.” Venla studied them each for a second, her wide eyes searching for something Zya could not fathom. “You are all well. That is good. Would that I could say the same then everything would be perfect.”

  The air of mystery about Venla intrigued Zya. It also kicked off the feeling of foreboding that Zya had had increasingly over the past few weeks. This occurring at this time left her very worried. “Mother, what has happened since we left?”

  Venla looked past them at a stitched picture on the wall. As she stared, tears formed in the corner of her eyes. “We travelled as quick as we might after we left the village, through the unending forest. At times we had to slow for fear of knocking branches down from the overhanging trees, but mainly we made good time. We camped in a glade you would have no doubt passed through on your travels. We thought we were alone and safe. Jaden didn't see anything. Neither did Jani or Gren.”

  There was a haunted look in Venla's eyes that confirmed to Zya everything she had believed true. Zya was afraid to ask the question though, as she did not want to believe it herself. “She had been more reclusive since we had left the village, but we thought it was just a phase she was going through, such as people that age tend to do. We hardly saw her at all that night and the only time we did she was staring off into the woods with such a look in her eyes as she was expecting a gift to arrive. We awoke the next morning and she was simply not there. Her bed had been slept in, and her clothes gone through, but there was no sign of her.” Tarim reached out and squeezed Venla's hand, bringing the tears spilling out of her eyes.

  Zya knelt down on the floor of the cabin at Venla's feet and looked up into her eyes. “Mother, you must admit it.”

  Venla looked scared as a startled deer, a shadow of the self-confident woman who was mistress of this caravan. She buried her face in her hands. “I can't.” she sobbed.

  “Mother you must!” Zya replied. She had that feeling in her again, and heartless as it was, she knew she must press the woman she respected so greatly. “You have to say it.”

  Venla's hands dropped from her face and she was white as a ghost. She stared straight into Zya's eyes, as if commanded by some unseen power to do so. “Daughter, they have kidnapped Erilee. They have stolen her from the bosom of the caravan and taken her from her people. Without us she is naked as a babe.

  Without our guidance she will not learn the old law fully, and is susceptible to the wrong teachings. We must save her.”

  Zya clasped Venla's hands between her own. “Mother we will, I swear it.” This brought a fresh storm of weeping, and Venla grabbed Zya for support.

  Tarim looked at Cahal. “There's nothing we can do here, my friend. I think it best if we get back outside and figure out what we can do about this.” Without another word the two men climbed down out of the caravan to leave the still-weeping Venla with Zya. Tarim knew his daughter would soothe her. She had a way about her, but he had never seen it used so obviously than in this case. He could see clearly that his daughter was special, but never more so than he could right now.

  The track led a small way from the house into the trees, and Tarim and Cahal were greeted with the sight of Layric and Jaden walking back towards the wagons with the hounds, their shoulders dropped in defeat. The dogs trotted alongside their master, but e
ven they could sense the mood, and were unusually quiet.

  “No luck?” asked Tarim when the pair got close enough to talk quietly.

  Layric shook his head. “We hoped that if we travelled late we might catch them at camp, but we have seen no sign of them whatsoever.” Jaden's grim visage only added confirmation to the statement. “Not a track… not a single damned track. These people are ghosts.” His subdued voice was unusual. Layric moved to go into the wagon.

  As he did so Tarim laid his hand on Layric's shoulder to prevent him. The broad man looked questioningly at him. “Zya is in there with her. Venla was quite upset.”

  Layric sighed in relief. “At least something good has happened. After Erilee went missing, Venla went cold and quiet, as if this had no effect on her. She refused to acknowledge the fact that she had lost someone. Even Ramaji, who has every reason to be upset, has at least accepted it, and she is Erilee's mother. I was afraid for her. Anita thought that maybe Zya could help, as Venla didn't want to see anybody else.”

  Tarim turned Layric and all four men walked back away from the caravan. “Layric, you know Zya was right about those men.”

  Layric kicked at a tuft of thick grass, as a child might do; this episode had everyone out of sorts, it seemed. “You are right Tarim, I do. The thought has haunted me. We did right in not killing them. Right, according to our Law. But what If we had? Then this wouldn't have happened. I mean we don't even know if it was these men, but we can make a damned close guess.”

  “Layric, we did as the law states and that was all we could do. By upholding it we have preserved everything that was once pure about our people.”

  Layric looked up, and there was a strange look to his face. “You were not one of our people once, Tarim. The law need not apply to you. You could go after them and save Erilee the way none of the rest of us could.”

  “You forget one thing, Layric.” Both men turned to see Cahal close up behind them. “Tarim chose to follow the ways of the old Law. That someone should choose to live the way you do is a tightly bound covenant. It is more sacred than the vows you were brought up with.”

  The idea seemed to have taken hold in Layric's mind though, and he still had the determined look on his face. “But you could, that's no doubt.”

  “Layric, I don't want to. I joined with your ways because I wanted nothing more to do with who I was and what I was doing. Going back to that would be the last thing in the world I would choose to do. I would not forsake the vows I have taken for any man, no matter the circumstances.”

  This seemed to get through to Layric, who resigned himself to this fact and drooped wearily again. “Ah well, it was worth a try. We will just have to trust to luck in finding her – it's all we have.”

  The sound of someone calling his name caused Tarim to turn back towards the caravan. It looked positively colourful in front of the light grey of the building's weathered stone. Gren was running out towards them. “Tarim, Layric! We must get ready! The mistress wants us to leave at once. Now that we are all together again she wants us to head for Boarsrushflow without delay. We might stand a better chance of finding her if we get to the town with haste.

  “How long to the town?” asked Tarim.

  Layric pondered this question for a second. “A good couple of weeks, to be sure. But the track should be wide and clear through the rest of the woods, and slopes gently downhill to where the two rivers meet. We should make good time. The horses are strong and pretty well rested. We saw no signs of hoof prints as we followed the track, so if we don't catch them in the woods, they will barely beat us to the town.”

  Tarim was doubtful that they would catch Erilee's abductors, and when he saw the look on Zya's face as she emerged from Venla and Layric's caravan he knew she thought the same. This more than anything left Tarim doubting himself for the first time in years. He knew he had made the right choice in joining the followers of the old Law, but Layric was right in that he could forsake those vows to search more effectively for Erilee. He knew that by the time they reached Boarsrushflow some sort of decision would have to have been made, or they had no hope of finding the lost girl. He looked the track up and down. Searching for the signs that were not there, he was dubious that they had even come this way at all. “There is always hope”, Layric said. Tarim was afraid that hope was all they were ever going to have.

  * * *

  Erilee thought that she should have felt guilty at watching her family leave and the others pass by as they did. The strange thing was that there was not the slightest trace of it. She was more at peace with herself now that she had been for a long while. Why couldn't they understand that all she wanted was to be with her two friends? Ever since they had been unjustly captured on the road towards that pitiful village she had known that her destiny lay with them. It was not fair that the rest of her family did their best to keep her from looking after her friends, even if it was only to keep them company. Their incarceration at the village was too much for her, but she endured, knowing they would come for her. It seemed the further away she was from them, the worse it hurt for her. That was all a distant memory to her now, as they set off in a completely different direction to the others.

  She had no idea why they were walking uphill most of the time, but she did not care. The wonders they had worked to hide themselves from the cruel mistress and the rest of the travellers were still fresh in her mind. That they could make the very brambles grow to cover their tracks and the footprints be erased almost as soon as they had been made, was amazing to her, but the fact that she seemed to know what they were saying even though they didn't speak was more amazing still. They seemed to make things happen by closing their eyes and holding up a small black stone, though Erilee had no idea what it was. She was more intent on trying to see what they looked like.

  She knew one of them looked a lot like Tarim – strong and dark. It was that which had first drawn her to them. That, and an innate curiosity as to what the other one looked like. Still, Erilee had not managed to find anything beyond the long dark hair that the people seemed to wear as a mark. Every time she thought she might sneak a glimpse, the figure turned, or put his hood up. It was as if her curiosity had been sensed from behind. It was just another facet of these people that interested her. And now she was walking up a narrow ravine without comment. If she had been at the caravan, Erilee would surely not have done this, but as long as it kept her close to her new-found companions she was more than happy to do whatever was required of her. In fact, she revelled in it.

  Climbing the steep gravelly path littered with shingle from a cut in the cliff, both figures managed it with the ease of a mountain goat. Erilee slipped and stumbled on her way up and the shrouded figure actually slowed to lend a hand. Staring up into those dark eyes, Erilee realised she was besotted with this silent character. She wanted to get to know this person – he was obviously a man of quality, or he would not have kept coming for her. Seeing she was safe on the path again, he let go of her and resumed the difficult walk up the path – it was bliss for Erilee to be so secure.

  The dark man smiled inwardly at the sniff of contempt his companion gave for the soft-bodied gypsy. Truly, up a path like this anyone who had a sure footing would make it with ease. They would have been slowed less by trying to herd blindfolded cattle up the track in the cleft. Still, they were to get much for this job. They had been tracking the group for near a season and all had ended well, despite the impetuous nature of his companion. He still chafed about that. It had ended one quarrel between them though. They were searching for the girl without the capability for true violence – the one most likely to follow what the fools called the old Law. Old law, new law – it was all one to him, with each being a facet of the other. The girl riding at them had shown that it was one of the two sisters they sought. The rest had been easy. She was curious, and it was all the easier to release the compulsion focus when she wouldn't leave them alone.

  He marvelled at the complexity of the spell,
and also its simplicity. It affected all of her senses. Once she was with them, unless they severed the focus, if she was away from them for more than a few moments she would feel the need to seek them out again. A dog on a leash was not as easily controlled. The complexity was in the nature of the focus. He who had taught them this trick had spent hours teaching them which parts of her to manipulate in order for the focus to regenerate. The only way for it to be broken was for her to touch them for a very long time, so even if she were near, the focus would still regenerate.

  And now they had her, he wished she weren't so chatty. She would learn. They had to give her certain respect though because of what she could do, or more precisely what she would be able to do. She would be a powerful ally, or a deadly enemy depending on the opinions she formed now, so he was happy to let the compulsion have its full effect. As a result it would leave her more loyal to them than anybody she had ever known. He wondered how many others he could snare like this now that he had the knowledge, and smiled with the dawn of realisation as he walked up the cliff path, and through to the wilderness beyond.

  Chapter Six

  When the three wizards suddenly reappeared through the wall, they found nobody waiting for them. The cavern was empty and silent. Their only company was the flickering light of the fire, which sent shadows and sprites around the room as it danced regardless of its audience. Raoul turned to look back at the wall, and after a moment, tentatively touched the place through which they had emerged. He pushed harder and eventually hit the wall and gave up.