Ellenessia's Curse Book 1: The Shadow's Seer

by Fran Jacobs

  We set up camp as best as we could, squelching through the saturated ground. Trellany and Teveriel made a rickety sort of shelter out of some of the larger twigs and branches that they could find, while I tended the horses. As I had feared, the wood was too damp to light and the leaves were too wet to use for a bed. The ground was completely soaked, wet and muddy, and we had to spread one of our blankets down over the top of it to save us from sleeping directly on the rain saturated earth, but I could still smell the wet mud through it.

  We climbed under the rough shelter, cuddling close to each other in our blankets, to eat our supper. We had fresh rations, given to us by Jelanna, bread, white cheese, fruit, pies and sausages. We ate the pies that night, they were a little squished, but were still tasty, and stared out at the rain as it continued to fall, coming through the holes in our shelter to drip irritatingly against my head.

  "Will the rain ever stop?" Teveriel muttered bitterly. Trellany and I exchanged looks. "What?" he demanded.

  "It really has been a while since you wintered in Carnia, hasn't it?" I said. "You've forgotten how bad it can get. This is nothing, Tev, compared to how it will be in a few weeks."

  "Why do you think that no one travels towards the end of autumn, until the early spring?" Trellany said. "Because it's like this nearly day to day. Rain, and wind, at the beginning, becoming snow and blizzards as the months go on."

  "There isn't that much water in the universe," Teveriel replied, "that it can keep doing this non-stop."

  "No," I agreed, "but it can feel like it. It will pass, in a couple of days. We never get more than a week of continual rain." I sighed, watching my breath fog in the bitter night air. "But it can feel like it, sometimes."

  "We will be in White Oaks before it gets really bad," Trellany said. "Huddled before a warm fire, eating fresh, hot food, with our clothes dry and that patchy beard of yours gone." She grinned at me fondly. "And this will all be a distant memory."

  "If we don't all get pneumonia and die first," Teveriel said.

  "That's a cheery thought," Trellany said sarcastically.

  "I'm cold," he admitted honestly, "and miserable and I'm wishing that Prince Candale would just learn to control his inane curiosity so that I wouldn't be freezing my backside off now sitting in the bloody rain!"

  I gaped at Teveriel in surprise and he groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

  "Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm sorry. It's just, I'm cold and wet and," he shrugged, "it is your fault."

  "I know," I said. "I know." I shivered, staring out at the falling rain and the slowly darkening sky. "I suppose we may as well try and sleep," I said. "No point trying to stay awake."

  "If we huddle together," Trellany said softly. "That will keep us warmer. Take off your wet outer layers, boots, too, seeing as they're caked in mud, it would be best not to sleep in them. But make sure that they aren't turned upright; we don't want rain to get inside them now."

  I nodded my agreement, but my mind was racing. It wasn't proper to have spent that night in Trellany's bed, it would be even worse to have her pressed up against me, even if we were both fully dressed. Layers of damp woollen cloth between us still wouldn't change the fact that this wasn't right. I tried not to think about it, as I slid off my wet outer layers and hung them up across various branches in the hope that they might drip dry a little in the night. Failing that, they might at least act like a sort of shield to protect us from the wind and any further rain. Then I lay down, Trellany on one side, Teveriel on the other. It was no surprise to me that they had both chosen to lie either side of me, arguing with each other as much as they did. I got the feeling that if they were the last two people alive in a violent blizzard, they still wouldn't get within touching distance of each other voluntarily. I cushioned my head on my saddlebags, shivering as I listened to the rain fall and tried not to think about Trellany curled up around me to sleep. I could feel her breath on my neck and in my hair, her breasts pressed against my back. I lay still on my side and tried not to think about it. Instead I stared rigidly ahead at Teveriel, watching him toss and turn for a while, before he rolled over suddenly to face me.

  "Warm enough?" he asked in a low voice.

  "Too warm," I said softly, feeling my cheeks grow hot with a blush.

  "Don't worry about her," Teveriel said. "If she doesn't mind this close, confined situation, I don't see why you should."

  "It isn't proper," I replied.

  "And where did you get that idea from?" I didn't answer and Teveriel just sighed, his breath warm against my face. "You do worry far too much about things, Candale. If Trellany didn't like what you were doing, or suggesting, or saying, then I'm pretty sure that she would tell you."

  "Yes."

  "And this was her idea."

  "Yes."

  He studied me, his eyes scanning my face thoughtfully. "That isn't what's really bothering you," he said finally. "Is it?"

  "No." When he didn't say anything, just looked at me expectantly, I sighed. "I ... I know you don't believe Talira was a seer-"

  "But?"

  "But ... but she told me that she saw me in a cell, a place with bars on the window and ... and with what the book in the library said about me facing madness ... I don't know, Tev. This is starting to become too hard for me to deal with. I-I'm going to lose everything for something that I don't even want."

  "No," Teveriel said, "you're not."

  "That's easy for you to say," I said, swallowing back a tight lump in my throat. "You don't even believe that I'm the Seer! I just wish I'd been able to talk to her a little more, ask her some questions."

  "I didn't say that you weren't the Seer. I just said that there might be other possibilities. And as for this Talira woman, Candale, I told you, there is nothing that she said to you that sounded like a prophecy. Perhaps she just invented what she said about you being in a cell so that you would stay with her and ask her more questions. Perhaps it was an attempt to make you trust her more so you would eventually leave with her, into a trap."

  "Maybe ..."

  "I just don't think you should worry too much about what one strange woman said to you."

  "But how can I not worry about this, Tev? I believe I'm the Seer, so when I hear stories like the Seer is going to go mad, or end up in a cell, how can I not be afraid?"

  Teveriel's hand reached out and caught my hand under the blankets, his rough calloused bardic fingers gripping mine firmly, though he flinched at the contact. "Your fingers are cold," he noted softly.

  "Yes," I replied, "they always are." I wasn't sure what this had to do with anything, and opened my mouth to ask, but he gave my hand a firm squeeze and continued talking. "Candale, my father said I would never be a bard, that I was a farmer and that was all I would ever be. I refused to accept that and now look at me! I know this is different and perhaps you can't avoid your fate, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try, or that you should live in fear of it, because what sort of life would that be?" I didn't answer him and his brow furrowed. "You know the story of the Lady Elyann? The White Rose?"

  "Yes," I said. "Of course. An old woman came to her on her sixteenth birthday and told her she was destined to destroy her kingdom. She ran away from home in fear, eventually got married, had a son and that boy became a general in the army and led the attack that destroyed the kingdom of her birth."

  "Yes-" Teveriel began.

  I interrupted him, "But she's evidence that you can't escape your fate, Tev. She ran away to try and avoid it but she still ended up being responsible for the destruction of her home."

  "Yes," he said again, "but she also lived her life in fear of that prophecy. She left her home, her family and set off on her own, all because she feared what might happen if she stayed, but it happened anyway. Dale, if you want children, the throne, a chicken made of gold, then just because some ancient book, full of dreams that someone else had before your birth, says that you won't have it is, is no reason not to try for it. Do what you want, make you
r own decisions and should these prophecies still come true then at least it would be because of your own actions, which is far better than living your life in fear of them, while they unfold around you." He gave me a lopsided smile.

  "Yes ..." I said, slowly. He did have a point.

  "And, I promise you now, that I will do everything that I can to make sure that no harm comes to you, whether it's fated for you, or no." There was something so serious and intense in his green eyes now and it made me feel a little uncomfortable. He wasn't just saying it to be comforting to me, he was swearing this as an oath, as real and as binding as any that a member of the Royal Guard had sworn to protect the royal line. "I swear it by the gods," he added, as an afterthought, as if it was needed, "not to let you end up in any place like that cell that Talira spoke of."

  I shivered and not just from the cold. "Thanks," I said. "And you're right. I shouldn't let myself dwell on it. I should just try and do what feels right and if it turns out to be what I was meant to have done then, at the very least, it will give you something good to sing about."

  "Yes," Teveriel said. He released my hand. "And that, of course, is the most important thing, that I have something good to sing about."

  ***

  By morning it had stopped raining. My wet clothes had dried, blown dry by the bitter wind that was still howling around our little shelter. I was shivering when I crawled out from under the blankets, reluctant to face the freezing and slightly misty, morning air. We ate quickly, not saying very much and then climbed back into the saddle and headed back towards the road to continue our journey.

  It was another week of riding before we were finally within sight of White Oaks and the rest of the journey was very uneventful. There were no more taverns along the smaller road that took us there from the Autumn Road but thankfully, there was no more rain, either, just a light shower of snow that didn't settle on the ground.

  When the school finally came into sight, early one afternoon, it was such a relief, that I almost couldn't believe it was there. This was where we had been heading. This building had been what my father hadn't wanted me to see, what I had wondered about for so long. It was the place where Mayrila had learnt to use her gifts and was the place that would finally answer all the questions that I had about what it would mean to be the Shadow Seer.

  Return to Contents

  * * *

  Chapter Fourteen

  WHITE OAKS

  The wrought iron gates of White Oaks loomed over us as we rode towards them. They were decorated with swirls, leaves and flowers, but there was nothing friendly or welcoming about them. And there was nothing friendly or welcoming about the four rambling buildings that stood behind them either. Those buildings were set around a large courtyard and were covered in dead ivy, which had faded to a yellow-brown hue. Many of the arched windows were cracked, broken or boarded up and the tower that stood over it all, appeared to be wavering in the wind, as though it were on the verge of collapse. Grey, stone gargoyles stared down from sporadic perches into the vast cobbled courtyard, that was empty of even a flowerbed or tree that would have softened it. In fact, other than the dead ivy, there was no sign of any plant life at all. The whole place was cold, austere. It was certainly not what I had expected and I felt a twinge of disappointment.

  This was it? This rundown series of buildings was White Oaks, the famous school of mages, the place I had been so desperate to reach that I'd run away from home? This was where all my questions would be answered? It didn't seem possible, but then the events of the last six months, or so, should have taught me that, sometimes, the impossible can be the reality. After all, it had been a series of seemingly impossible discoveries about myself � that Silnia, was not actually the one who had given birth to me, and that signs pointed towards me being the Shadow Seer, a foretold prophet of darkness - that had brought me here in the first place.

  "It's nice," Teveriel murmured sarcastically, staring up at the gates.

  "Cosy," Trellany added.

  I didn't say anything, just kicked my mount on and rode through the open gates. They towered over me, making me feel as though I were passing through the gateway into the afterlife. A quick glance over my shoulder showed me that my companions felt just as uneasy. Teveriel was pale, studying the metal twists as he rode between them, and Trellany had a grim look of determination on her face, as though she were about to ride into battle. But then, perhaps that was how she felt. Who knew what to expect here?

  Our horses' hooves clattered on the cobbles of the courtyard and echoed in the otherwise silent air. There wasn't a sound to be heard, of birds, of other people in this school. It was unsettling and, for a moment, I feared that the whole place was deserted.

  Then I heard a voice calling to me. I stopped my mount and turned to watch as a young boy and an older girl came running over. Dressed in dirty clothes, the boy had tufts of straw in his hair and looked to be no more than ten years old. The girl was better presented, clean, wearing a floor-length simple dress of dark green. She was perhaps fifteen years old. They looked an odd couple to be together.

  "Let me take your mounts," the boy said. He had a slight hint of accent, one that I couldn't quite place.

  "Take them where?" I asked.

  "Stable," the boy replied, as if it were obvious.

  "You were expecting us?" Trellany asked.

  "A week ago," the boy said. "Was beginning to doubt you were coming."

  "The weather delayed us," I said, glancing at Trellany. She shrugged her shoulders, but her green eyes were wary.

  The boy shrugged. "Don't care," he said. "Just get down. Willow will take you to Tival."

  We dismounted, slowly. Trellany's eyes were anxious as she looked around us, but other than the stable-boy who stood there watching us, making impatient sounds, and the young girl, Willow, I presumed, there was no one else around. I took my bags from my horse's saddle, lifting them up onto my shoulders, and then turned towards the girl.

  "You've been waiting a week for us?"

  "Tival expected you a week ago, yes," the girl replied. "He got a message telling him to expect two men and a woman. We were all told to be on the lookout for you and to take you straight to him when you arrived." She looked me up and down, slowly, with hard brown eyes, and I returned the favour, taking the opportunity to study her. She was short and thin, rather than slender, plain looking, with a slightly hooked nose and a very square jaw. She had brown eyes and long brown hair that fell in soft waves half way down her back, held back from her face with brown pins shaped like leaves. Despite the coldness of her eyes, there was something soft, almost earthy about her. "You're very old for new students," she said. "We usually have young children coming here. I'm not even sure that anything can be taught to you at all. Especially in your case." This was directed at Trellany who stiffened and opened her mouth to say something indignant, at the same time that I heard Teveriel snort with laughter.

  "We're not here to be taught," I said quickly. "We're here to see Calran."

  "You will see and do whatever Tival says you will," Willow replied, dismissively. "Just like everyone else. Come on." She took off, leading us towards the larger of the four buildings. There was a flight of stone stairs, leading up to a heavy wooden door, which she bounded up without another word or a glance at the stone gargoyle that stuck its tongue out at us from above the door lintel.

  Teveriel gave me an anxious smile. "I presume it was your grandfather who sent a message here," he said in a low voice, as we climbed the stairs. "It will certainly make things easier for us, save us from having to explain what we're doing here and make it easier to get what you want."

  "Perhaps," I said softly. "It depends on what he told them."

  "I doubt that he would have said 'don't let my grandson look at anything, keep him locked in his rooms until I come to drag him home again'," Teveriel said. "He was going to send for the book for you, so I'm sure he will expect you to look at it while you're here."

&nbs
p; "Yes," I said. "I hope so."

  Willow led us through a maze of dark and dusty corridors with panelled walls, creaky floors, and crooked pictures, and into a sparse antechamber, lined with hard looking furniture. She knocked on the door, which led into the inner chamber, and almost instantly we heard a voice calling to us to enter. Without another thought, I pushed it open and went in, leaving Willow to wait behind.

  An old man sat behind a large wooden desk in a room cluttered with shelves that held books, scrolls and strange looking objects. There were pictures on the walls, both tapestries and sketches, and the dark curtains were drawn against the winter sunlight outside. The floor was bare wooden planks and the lower half of the wall was lined in wooden panels, similar to the corridor outside. The whole room was dark and smelt dusty. Three chairs stood in front of the desk, almost as though they were waiting for us, and the old man gestured toward them. We dropped our bags by the door and sat down, only to find the chairs hard and the cushions dusty.

  "I'm Tival," the old man said, getting to his feet. "I govern this school. It's an honour to meet you, Prince Candale." He gave me a sketchy bow. "And I'm delighted to see that you're looking so well. We had heard rumours ..."

  "You knew that we were coming," I said, coughing from the dust that rose up from the cushion. I knew that it might have seemed rude to him, that I had cut him off and changed the subject without warning, but I didn't want to discuss my illness and, moreover, my recovery, with anyone. "Hence the welcoming committee. Was it my grandfather who wrote to you?"

  "It was indeed, Prince Candale." Tival sat back down. He didn't seem bothered by my shortness. "We received a letter from him, via carrier bird, and he explained the situation. I'm honoured to have you visit, of course, and rooms have been prepared for you and your friends. I only wish that, perhaps, you had secured permission before coming here. The school doesn't want to be caught up in any argument between you and our king."