by Sigrid Kraft
Opposite the gallows, a second platform had been erected on which the honorable dignitaries of Falgars Vale now gathered. Eryn looked around him in an attempt to keep his mind off the inevitable.
They have all come to see us hang. A lot of common folk and the noblemen, too.
Eryn recognized Sir Joren, the commandant of the city guard, Bran Merett, the wealthiest merchant in town, and Klaas Berden, the town’s steward. The fourth of the prominent figures was unfamiliar to him, however. The man was obviously in the military. There had been another change among the commanders of the soldiers – so Eryn had heard and he thought he remembered that the new commandant’s name was Sir Ulwen or something similar.
I can’t do justice to the pleasure of meeting his new officer anyway.
The sound of bugles filled the air and the crowd fell silent. A man stepped forward to announce with a loud voice the names and ranks of the noblemen on the platform. Eryn had been right: The officer was indeed Sir Ulwen. He addressed the audience, giving an impassioned speech about the infamous rebels, their despicable crimes and how they were overpowered by the brave Lowlander soldiers in a heroic battle. In Sir Ulwen’s eyes, there was no doubt about the guilt of the rebels, and he now sentenced the last two of them to their just penalty.
We are not criminals and not even half of what he said is true.
Sir Ulwen continued: “And now the time has come to show all upright citizens that their worst nightmares are over. We have carried the body of the rebel leader – who called himself Vrat the Raven – downhill to hang him here in Falgars Vale for everybody to witness – as a symbol of justice.”
The box was opened and Vrat’s dead and already slightly rotting corpse was taken out. A murmur went through the crowd.
What a farce, Eryn thought in disgust. Hal had started to cry, but that was exactly the right behavior to give Eryn the strength to regain his composure. He shouted out loud, his voice drowning the noise of the crowd:
“We have fought for our land and our freedom!”
The blunt end of a spear hit him in the back: “Hold your tongue if you don’t want to be gagged.”
At the same time, voices from the gathered crowd shouted up to him: “Murderers! Criminals! Hang’ em!”
Again the bugles called for silence. Meanwhile, a noose had been placed theatrically around Vrat’s neck and the corpse was hoisted up in the air. The men tied the rope around a pole and Vrat’s body swung slightly in the wind, creaking like a rusty hinge. The men now turned to Hal and pulled a hood over his head, followed by a rope, which was drawn tight around his neck. Hal begun to beg for his life and beneath the hood you could hear him crying. Eryn turned his face away and gazed at the large crowd. He was disgusted at how eagerly the folk gawped at the spectacle.
The hatch next to Eryn was opened and Hal’s body plummeted into the depths. The young lad’s neck snapped with an ugly crack and his corpse too started to swing on the end of the rope. Eryn had watched this fellow die.
At least I was able to honor his death.
A memory from long ago suddenly flashed into his mind: That is exactly the scene I saw in the Finngul’s cauldron! He recalled the words of the prophecy. “In the face of death your life will begin. The world as you know it, will be gone.”
My life will soon be put to an end and the world I have known does indeed no longer exist. What a sick joke.
He burst out with loud laughter and then he vented his anger and disappointment on the crowd:
“You filthy rabble! Is that your justice? Hanging a child? All the crimes you have spoken of... yes, they happened. But not committed by our hands – but by you, the Lowlanders!”
The shaft of the spear again jabbed Eryn in the back, but he didn’t care any more.
As long as I am still alive, I will raise my voice and show the debauched mob the pride of a Fenn.
“Women were raped, and you robbed us of our land and our way of life.”
“Hang him!”
“Murderer!” The shouts from the crowd drowned out Eryn’s words. The soldiers tried to pull a hood over his head but Eryn fought them off and thundered at them: “I want to look death in the eye. You miserable wretches should see how a Fenn dies!”
The noose was thrown over his head and pulled tight. Without hesitating, Eryn took a firm step forward so that he now stood on the hatch.
Just one more second to master my fear – then it’ll all be over. Show them that I am proud and brave. I fought as a Fenn and I die as a Fenn! He took a last deep breath and waited for the trapdoor to spring open. Now...
“Wait! The Brotherhood claims this man!” a voice boomed out over the tumultuous scenes in the crowd.
All heads turned round to see what an unimpressively small person the speaker was, his face hidden under a hood. The crowd parted to form a passage through which the man now walked solemnly forward.
Once again he repeated his words and it became obvious that he was using magic to intensify the effect.
“The Brotherhood claims this man.”
Sir Ulwen was the first to find his voice: “This man is a convicted criminal. In the name of the Prince of Ardeen he is condemned to death and will face justice.”
Small and slight though the man seemed, he nonetheless radiated authority: “If the Brotherhood claims this man, then that must be respected. Or do I have to remind you of the fact that Prince Raiden of Ardeen, Towerlord of Naganor the Black Tower is himself a member of the Brotherhood? Will you ask his opinion on this matter?”
Uncertain, Sir Ulwen frowned and hesitated while Master Merett signaled that he wished to speak: “What kind of interest might the Brotherhood have in a convicted murderer? And who are you anyway?”
The man brushed back the hood to reveal a pale, unremarkable face. Then he reached inside his cloak and pulled something out. “I am Master Xeres Gort, seeker of the Brotherhood.”
He held out a glowing seal with the twelve circles of magic to the astonished crowd.
“Do you recognize this?”
Never before had most of the common people seen such a seal. But Sir Ulwen and the other noblemen knew it from rare occasions. A special kind of spell lay upon the seal. Those who had seen it once would never forget it in their lifetime, so there was no doubt about its authenticity.
Master Merett seemed to shrink visibly into himself and Sir Ulwen surrendered at last: “Take him with you, seeker. The law of the Brotherhood stands above all others.”
Flabbergasted, Eryn watched the spectacle. The seeker stepped forward to the gallows and the crowd drew back. As he approached, the man did not take the steps, but levitated directly on to the platform. With a fire ray from his bare hand, the seeker burned right through the rope around Eryn’s neck. The soldiers recoiled in fear.
The loose part of the rope flew through the air and into the mage’s outstretched hand.
Eryn tried to say something, but he couldn’t move his lips. Suddenly his feet were moving of their own volition and he descended the platform to join the seeker on the marketplace. No one dared to step in their way as they crossed the square. Leaving the crowd behind, the two men walked down an almost deserted street. No wonder, as the astonished townspeople were all still gathered on the marketplace. For some curious reason, no one seemed to have the slightest interest in following them.
As they passed around the next corner, the seeker turned to Eryn:
“I will now free you from the bonds and remove the spells. But, please, keep quiet and follow me to the inn. Later, there will be time for me to explain everything to you.” Xeres’ calm voice inspired trust, and Eryn was both relieved and confused.
A narrow escape from the jaws of death, and here I am now in the company of a mage, one of those men who work profane spells against Nature and the will of the Gods. There was no doubt that magic had been involved. Eryn had seen it with his own eyes. Nevertheless, he nodded in agreement:
“All right.” What does he call himself again?
… Seeker of the Brotherhood. Never heard of them.
They crossed a few streets and at last entered through the door of a small inn. A maidservant was cleaning the barroom and apart from a quick glance, she didn’t pay them much attention. Xeres led Eryn upstairs into a pleasant room furnished with a bed and a table right beside the entrance. Two chairs stood next to it, and a shelf on the opposite wall offered some space for the guests’ belongings. The mage invited Eryn to take a seat. Gladly, the young man sat down, while Xeres turned around and took two cups from the shelf. The seeker set the cups on the table and filled them with water from the pitcher that stood nearby. Then he handed one over to Eryn.
“Here, drink this. Well, I need a mouthful myself. Sorcery is much more exhausting than it looks. And for those coxcombs out there I had to put on an even more impressive show than usual. Just to stop them giving you a little push.” He winked and raised the cup to his lips.
Eryn looked at the wooden cup in his hand.
I am eager to ask this strange man a thousand questions. But seeing the water, he suddenly felt incredible thirsty. No one had deemed it necessary to give Eryn something to drink on the day of his execution.
The thirst is overpowering. I have to drink...
He swallowed the water hastily and drained the cup. The water tasted fresh and delicious as it ran down his throat. There followed a deep contentedness which spread throughout his body. He felt comfortably warm and his surroundings seemed to fade away.
Curious, everything is so faint. What was I up to again?
“You want to rest? No problem – you can take the bed. You are certainly very, very tired from everything that has happened today.” Eryn smiled stupidly at his friendly rescuer:
“Yes, that’s a good idea.”
Then he walked over to the bed and lay down. Almost instantly, he fell asleep.
With his sleeve, Xeres wiped the sweat from his forehead. He looked even more exhausted than Eryn.
Phew! That last hour really took me close to the edge. I had to avail myself of the whole repertoire of my powers – illusions, air, fire and ban spells. His magical powers were not so strong. If he had been more skilled, he would not have spent his time roaming through the country in search of persons with magical powers.
Like all the other people on the marketplace, he had in fact just turned up to see the execution of the outlaws: The great event the whole city had been talking about for days.
Actually, I had intended to depart a few days before. My work was done here, but my curiosity caused me to stay. I must confess to being guilty of a craving for sensation, a motivation far beneath a mage.
Which is how he had come to be standing on the marketplace to watch the spectacle. On a whim, he had scanned the convicted men beneath the gallows. First the slender youth, who was almost a child.
He has minor abilities in the circles of Light, Earth and Water – barely worth mentioning. Even for an unmagical, this is far below average. Not particularly surprising as he is one of those mountain people. They are known for their lack of magic. That’s why they have no problems living in the Unhaer.
Then Xeres had turned to the blond man and scanned him fleetingly. Odd. He seems to have no magic at all. But that is impossible. All creatures possess some kind of magic, however little.
Xeres took a closer look and noticed a kind of shield. Perhaps I am not the most skilled mage, but I have become an exceptionally gifted seeker over the years. And such a small shield will not keep me out. Let’s see what he hides behind... so close to his execution.
Ambition spurred the seeker on and he passed effortlessly through the shield. Behind it, he fell into a sea of colors, incredibly bright and shining.
Fantastic! This is unbelievable! So many circles! And he began to count them: One Orange, Brown and Gray makes three. White, Black, Gold and Silver makes seven. Blue, Red – nine. Green – ten. And Violet and Yellow are there too. Twelve circles – incredible. He has all twelve circles!
In all his years of searching he had never found anyone with twelve circles. On a few, very rare occasions, he had discovered gifted children with nine circles, and for decades now, he had not even heard of one case where eleven circles were found – let alone an incredible twelve. Before the Great War there were some mages with these extraordinary skills but now it is said that only Master Elderon, Towerlord of Aleroth the White Tower has twelve circles.
Master Elderon, the first of the Brotherhood and this young fellow – they are the only ones on this earth. And the Circle of Gold has become so rare – I have never seen one myself.
That was what Xeres believed, because only few knew the truth that Master Elderon, too, had lost his Circle of Gold. But now the seeker was as happy as a child who is given a big birthday surprise. And beyond his exciting discovery, he had completely forgotten about the events going on around him.
My goodness, gracious me! They are going to hang him. I must stop it! His talent is too extraordinary to be wasted like that.
So Xeres imposed his voice magically and insisted on his right as seeker: “Wait! The Brotherhood claims this man!”
He is a criminal. There is a reason he stands beneath the gallows. Xeres, what are you doing there? he reprimanded himself, only to change his mind again in an instant: His talent is like a hoard of gold and I have discovered him. I will take him to Master Elderon. Let the first mage decide his fate.
And so he saved Eryn.
Now Xeres was sitting in his chamber inside the inn. He took a deep breath, noticing again how exhausted he was.
The young man seems wild and unpredictable, and therefore I knocked him out with an intoxicating herb mixed in the water. The drug makes all kinds of spell magic much easier to deal with. He looks strong and dangerous, and I will not take the risk of him escaping from me. Or even worse – of being hurt by him. So I’ll drug him to keep him better under control – even with my small powers.
Xeres glanced towards the bed where Eryn was sleeping soundly. Then the seeker pulled out the magical seal.
I will inform Master Elderon immediately. The seal allowed a direct communication with the first mage. Xeres tried to build up a connection, but his call remained unanswered. Disappointed, Xeres put the seal away and decided to see to other matters first.
The lad is fast asleep. Meanwhile I’ll make preparations for our departure. He needs some clothing, and a second horse would also be of help. Then the supplies... the usual.
Xeres went off to arrange everything.
They rode out of town, following the road. Eryn felt dizzy.
Something is wrong.
But he couldn’t get to the bottom of it, and in his peculiar state of happiness, everything else seemed unimportant.
“Where are we headed for, friendly stranger?” he asked the man riding beside him.
Xeres wanted to strengthen the young man’s trust in him:
“My name is Xeres Gort, but you can call me Xeres if you like. And your name?”
Eryn’s brain was working very slowly, and he replied sleepily:
“I am Eryn Bloodhand. Bloodhand is my warrior’s name.” There is something important I wanted to ask about. Didn’t I ask something of importance earlier? What did he reply? I can’t remember any more.
Eryn opened his mouth but Xeres was faster:
“Why didn’t you use your magic to free yourself when they were trying to hang you?”
They wanted to hang me – that’s true. “Yes, they were evil men. Dirty Lowlanders.”
But what does he mean with magic? I don’t understand. “Magic is unholy. The Gods disapprove of the wicked work of sorcerers. Everybody knows that.”
The look of astonishment on Xeres’ face escaped Eryn – along with many other things at that moment.
Now everything is all right – everything is as it should be. Where are the mountains? And Eryn turned around: “I have to go back to the mountains. We should turn round.”
The seeker’s v
oice sounded wheedling in Eryn’s ear:
“No, no, we are on the right path. We are bound for the south. Don’t you know any more? We are heading south.”
“Sure... south.” Everything is so clear and simple now that Xeres mentions it. Of course we want to go south – away from the Lowlanders. Xeres is such a comical little man and he can do amusing things. “How did you do that? Flying up to the platform as if you were standing on air?”
The seeker smiled: “You probably imagined that. I merely jumped up. But you could have used magic to free yourself.”
Everything is so confusing. “Why do you always talk about magic? Pah, magic! Most stories about it are tales to frighten children. Or do you really believe mages can throw flashes of lightning and mount dragons? Hahahaha. What is a seeker anyway?
Xeres sighed in resignation. “Someone who finds men with special skills. Men like you. After they have been found, we take them to a wise Master, who can teach many things. And I will take you to the greatest Master of them all, Master Elderon of Aleroth, Lord of the White Tower, named Aleroth.”
So much information... I have to think about it first. And a short moment later, Eryn had already forgotten most of what Master Xeres had told him. There was only one thing he still marveled about.
I am skilled? Hmm? Not more than others, I shouldn’t think. “I am skilled with the bow and experienced in the use of the long knife. Swords, we don’t use ‘em. Too unwieldy in the woods. I can run long distances but Arun is better at that.” Suddenly Eryn remembered and he began to cry. “Arun, poor Arun is dead. The Lowlanders killed him and all the others too. That is so sad.”
“Yes, it is. Here, take a sip. It will help you to find peace with your past.”
Thankfully, Eryn took the bottle and brought it to his lips. He took a big gulp, and felt the liquid run down his throat, spreading the comforting warmth he was already familiar with. Xeres is right, now all the misery has gone again.