by Chris Ward
It had not been hard to find Gymble Barger for he had heard of the downfall of King Petros and had come to Ramos to see for himself, hoping too, to once again be reacquainted with Rema. They had met on the docks and with great emotion in a small riverside tavern sat and shared their stories since they had parted in more difficult circumstances. The young Nemul had settled well into life on the river and was great company for Gymble. He still grieved for his Gracelin, and it was not a subject they dwelt long upon, although Rema wondered about El-Arathor’s comments. It crossed his mind that perhaps there were some things yet to be revealed. However he said nothing of this to Gymble.
Rema turned and looked north and east. His rooms were situated high up on the south east corner of the White Palace so his view stretched far south and north and east. From where he stood he fancied he could see the top of the Eastern Upthrust, AlGiron where the Edenwhood lived. He knew he could not, but a part of him yearned to see that wonderful land once more and see the mighty tree dwellings and the shining eagles soaring majestically on the high air currents above the massive cliffs. He missed Anderlorn. The great Elder had taken his small army back to AlGiron shortly after Sylvion had been crowned Queen of Revelyn. Their leaving of Ramos had been a massive spectacle and almost the whole city turned out to see them go. The great Scythercats had awed the people for all the short time the Edenwhood had remained after Sylvion came to the throne, and the tall soldiers had made many friends with the lowlanders during their stay. Flags and colourful banners were waved, drums pounded and happy admiring crowds cheered them off; and many children raced happily along, even out of the city gates and beside the departing army for several leagues, although they all kept well clear of the Scythercats.
Anderlorn had arranged with Sylvion that a carriave base would be established at Alderyn, and also he hinted that the Western Gate to AlGiron might be opened more regularly once he had discussed these things with Eldres Kreilliorn and the other high official of the Edenwhood.
Standing in the warm sun, Rema remembered the last words which Anderlorn had spoken to him.
‘A braver man I cannot imagine Rema Bowman, please visit us in Alderyn, you will always be welcome there.’ He had smiled then, and perhaps with a deeper insight than Rema had then suspected, had leaned close and whispered. ‘There are many beautiful young Edenwhood women who would look favourably upon your visiting us.’
Cordia alone of all the Edenwhood remained in Ramos. It was not hard to see why. She and Reigin had developed a delight in each other’s company and he felt compelled to stay for a time. Sylvion had placed him in charge of the army in Leander’s place, but it was not a position which he greatly welcomed, for the Wolvers resented him. They muttered of his betrayal, and their loss of status under the new queen was further cause for resentment. Rema suspected that Reigin would one day soon leave for AlGiron with Cordia and start a new life with his people in that wonderful land. And beside that there was the lost tribe.
Three full moons after Sylvion was crowned, Rema had travelled with Reigin and Cordia south beyond the Luminos River to a barren land where the lost Wolf Clan tribe of the Edenwhood had finally settled generations before, after their bitter departure from the Edenwhood and before the Great Separation. It was this sad tribe which had been long enslaved by Revelyn’s rulers, and from it the Wolvers had been taken. Reigin longed now to see his people released from such a sad enslavement and brought back to AlGiron.
They found four score only in sad circumstances; mostly women and children and older men, for the best of the young were taken to be trained as Wolvers. On Queen Sylvion’s authority the guards which watched over them were disbanded, causing some little commotion, for to be an overseer of the Wolver people as they were called, had been passed down from father to son for generations.
Reigin and Cordia were well received by their kin who listened in quiet awe as they spoke of the land from which their ancestors came, and to which they were now invited to return. They had long since lost their history; it had been taken from them by a succession of lowlander kings. Their overseers treated them harshly such that they had been reduced to a simple subsistence existence, hardly more than a meal beyond starvation despite their great stature and impressive bearing, for it was their boy children alone which gave them value to the kingdom. And a deep fear of their latent power kept them enslaved.
Rema had watched in admiration as the whole clan discussed the proposal which Reigin put before them, on behalf of Anderlorn, High Elder of the Edenwhood, and finally after three nights of animated discussion it was agreed. They would leave the lowlands and return to their kin in AlGiron.
Rema now suspected that it was the final arrangements for their leaving which kept Reigin in Ramos, for it was no easy undertaking, and AlGiron needed to be prepared and a homeland for the clan set aside as well as dwellings and shelter, not to mention a sustainable livelihood. Communications between Ramos and Alderyn were still not easy and so the task was slow and painstaking, but Reigin and Cordia worked hard to see it succeed.
Rema moved into the shadow of the massive eaves. His body was hot from his exertions and the sun, and as he towelled off the sweat, he found himself greatly preoccupied with thoughts of what he had learnt in the time since Sylvion had become Queen.
Once Sontim Greyfeld was to have become his kindpa by marriage. Now all that seemed lost. He had never met the man but Sylvion had always talked of him with the deepest affection, and great sadness, for his disappearance had been hard for her and her kindma. It seemed to Rema beyond chance that he should turn up at the very last and play a crucial role in the defeat of Zelfos, and indeed after some long conversations with the old white headed man, whom all else in the Palace had called the skolar, Rema was convinced that this was the case. Sontim spoke of conversations long ago with a strange man who had encouraged him to travel to Ramos to study the archives and learn about the ancient laws relating to the Royal Sceptre. Whilst Sontim did not give the name of this ancient one, Rema believed it to be Mentor, or El-Arathor, and as he thought upon it he realised that the defeat of the great evil represented by Zelfos and his Shadow Hunters was planned by a higher being who had some foreknowledge of the affairs of man. It left him with a great sense of humility that he too had been included in such a plan, and he marvelled at its complexity, for now he saw that even such a small detail as the loss of the Shadow Blade to the Royal House, when Raven Hendon stole it, years before, was an important part of keeping it from Zelfos and finally tricking him to believe that power of the Royal Sceptre was complete, when it was not.
Rema shook his head and marvelled at it all.
‘I salute you El-Arathor,’ he whispered prayerfully to the air, ‘for without you, Revelyn would be lost.’
At that moment there was a loud knock on the solid wooden door to his chambers, and a steward called out.
‘Queen Sylvion seeks permission to enter Rema Bowman!’
Rema was jolted back to reality and hastily made his way to the door which he opened gladly, for despite his plans to leave Ramos, he never tired of looking upon the woman who for so long had held his heart.
Sylvion entered dismissing her steward and guard. Rema stepped back as she did so, forgetting that he was striped to the waist and the exertion of his morning exercise was quite apparent.
‘You are half naked Rema, is that any way to present for a queen?’ She spoke in good humour and he savoured the moment for such times had been too few. She was more beautiful now than ever, yet he sensed in her a cold edge which had never been in her nature before. He smiled as he replied.
‘I am sure a queen such as the one who rules Revelyn so wisely, has knowledge of the ways of men. We look to impress as best we can.’
‘Well you have succeeded Rema.’ She reached up and kissed him ever so lightly on the lips, but he noticed that she did not linger, as though it were more the greeting between two close friends, and his heart felt an arrow of pain, for he realised that he ha
d still hoped for some possibility to their future. Now he knew it could not be. He knew he must leave, for to stay was too painful and in the end would only lead to bitterness for them both.
Sylvion went out and stood on the balcony and surveyed her kingdom. It was done with such an elegance and gentle love so different from anything Petros or Zelfos had displayed.
‘The land is beginning to thrive once more Rema,’ she spoke with a great enthusiasm. ‘I received a report from Sheldon this morning. The barley crop will be twice that of last season, and more workers than ever before have found employment in the fields. The soldier’s garrison there claims that petty breaches of the law have all but disappeared, and there have been no major incidents since two full moons past...’ She turned to look at Rema aglow with the pleasure of success and suddenly realised that he was not as moved by these things as she. There was a pause. She frowned slightly.
‘Come Rema; are you not happy that these things are now happening in Revelyn? It is still early I know, but in time we will have a kingdom which at last is secure and at peace, where men do not fight and cheat, or use the sword to seek revenge for the smallest ills.’
Rema smiled sadly.
‘Sylvion you have done so well, and I can see that all you set out to achieve will come to pass. For Revelyn this is beyond all the hopes held in recent times.’
‘I am glad that you are at least somewhat pleased,’ Sylvion said a little coolly, ‘but I find you sad, not happy and I fear you have deep thoughts which trouble you.’
‘I am leaving Ramos this day.’ Rema said, knowing that it there was no easy way to put the matter before her. Sylvion was stunned, and shook her head as though to clear her ears.
‘Leaving Rema, what do you mean? You can’t leave, not now, not when things are beginning to go so well...’ her voice trailed off and for the first time a note of panic tinged her words. ‘What about us?’ She asked it as though deeply hurt but they both knew the answer to her question, and so each stood in silence and looked longingly at the other.
Rema walked to the parapet and looked out over the city.
‘Sylvion, I have lost you to this great cause, this great kingdom. I am a highlander and always wished to live close to the mountains, where the Orax run and the eagles soar. You too once wished for that. We planned it. We agreed to it.’
‘But I cannot now do that.’ Sylvion spoke with tears in her eyes but there was anger to her voice. ‘Rema you can see that Revelyn needs me. I am the queen and my place is here in Ramos. I know that it has been hard for you but surely you can find a way to live here.’
‘In what manner do you wish me to live here?’ Rema turned and looked at Sylvion. It was the question which needed to be asked, and which she had avoided for two seasons. She did not reply.
‘I have waited for your love Sylvion,’ he continued, ‘ I have done those tasks you asked of me, and all the time I have watched you grow away from me, and I sense now that I am not the one for which you once would gladly have given all so that we could be together. I know that Revelyn claims you. I do not ask you to choose between me and your kingdom, for you are right, your place is here, but it is not for me, and I cannot bear the distance which you have placed between us. There is one remedy, and so Sylvion, I leave today.’
Sylvion struggled to absorb his words. She had known full well that they were no longer as close as either desired, for her feelings had changed as her role as queen of Revelyn took over her life. She knew that since she had used the Shadow Blade something cold had grown inside her. She knew also that what he said was right, but for many days now she had hoped that Rema would just be there, and perhaps some time in the future they might find a way to work it out. This sudden ending was so unexpected and she did not know how to react. She had grown used to making the decisions. Rema’s cold pronouncement had shaken her to the core.
‘What will I do without you Rema?’ she felt herself begin to crumble.
‘These seasons past you have done well enough.’ These curt words did not pass his lips well. Rema tried hard not to let his own hurt divide them, but he too felt a deep pain. It was one thing to think upon an end to such a close relationship; it was so much harder to see it through.
‘I am sorry Rema.’ It was all she said, and her tears came freely for she knew that they had reached the end. It was not possible to travel further, for it would tear them both apart.
Rema went to her and held her firmly as she sobbed, and he too cried quietly for what might have been. After a time he stood back and kissed her for the final time. She did not resist. It was done with the gentlest of affection as though to say, we part as friends, but we part nonetheless.
‘When do you leave?’ she asked as one final sob shook her beautiful body.
‘I have arranged to meet Gymble Barger just after noon. I plan to travel with him awhile.’
‘Will you return to the highlands?’ she asked quietly as a fond memory of the beauty of Rema’s home overtook her.
Rema nodded. ‘In time I will. I have not seen my parents, my adoptive parents for too long and they are older now. I cannot let them think I have left them in their old age. They were good to me despite keeping my true story from me. So yes, in time I will make my way back home.’
Sylvion envied him then, and a small surge of anger threatened to make their parting more hurtful, but she quickly mastered it and nodded through her tears.
‘Thank you Rema. I know none else so true and good. Perhaps you will come by here again. I am sorry that this has come to pass.’
Rema smiled for he knew now that it was over and they were but tidying the edges of their lost love.
‘Perhaps Sylvion. I do not know what road I travel now. I only know that I must.’
He reached out and tenderly wiped a tear from her face and then quickly turned and looked out across the city once more. Across the mighty Luminos River where Gymble’s barge waited. Across the rolling plains to the south...
He heard the oak door shut as she left and he bit his lip so hard it bled, for it was a door shut on so many dreams. He was alone once more. After a long time he slowly and lovingly took the gold ring which she had given him long before from his finger and placed it on the parapet where he knew it would be found, and then, with a deep pain in his heart gathered his few belongings together and made ready to leave.
*
Rema walked sadly through the city, dropping down towards the docks on the river. As he did, he travelled unconsciously by a path which took him past Serenna’s house and before he knew it he was before the mighty scarred oak door which bore the marks of the Shadow Hunter’s claws. He shook his head and brought his thoughts in order, for he had been far off as he walked. He realised that the door was nailed shut and it bore a notice warning off any who might wish to enter without permission. On a whim he walked quickly around to the rear of the large building and looked up. The window which he had used to gain entry long before was open as though beckoning him to come in. It was broad daylight but no one was around, and so without thinking he sprang upon the stone wall and was quickly up and through the window into the house.
It smelt musty and had not the familiar feel of a place well lived in. He opened the door to the upper room and listened. The house was quiet. He descended the stairs not knowing why he was there, except that he felt some call to look for a reminder of his dear friend who he had lost so suddenly with no opportunity for parting words.
The house had been rudely ransacked. Broken furniture lay all about and hardly any object of value remained. Rema entered Serenna’s private room and looked about. His last vision of this place was when they had fled leaving the evil servant Ethor tied and trussed upon the floor. He remembered Serenna’s cunning decoy that allowed them to get away, and grieved for two generous friends who had willingly ridden off to draw the evil Shadow Hunters away from their trail. They had paid with their lives.
He spent a few moments looking around the disordered room,
and then with a start saw under a fallen chest a small object which he recognised. It had no value in itself but he knew it right away. With a pounding heart he reached down and gently picked it up. It was a small and rough carving of an Orax. He had carved it years before and given it to Serenna on her sixteenth birthday. The memory of it came flooding back to him and he found the emotion too great. He slumped to floor and cried silently for the loss of one so dear. After he had regained some composure he inspected the carving and on turning it over saw that someone had carved three words into its base. It read, in crude strokes made by a half blunt knife...
Serenna and Rema
Rema knew immediately then that she had loved him and this small token was her way of keeping them together across the leagues and years, united by the Orax, the symbol of so many adventures they had shared in the mountains.
‘I will keep this always Serenna,’ he whispered silently, and then with a sigh he stood and left the way he had come.
He travelled with Gymble fourteen days upriver. It was slow against the current but Rema was in no hurry to get anywhere. He hunted often and added good meat to their diet. They talked and laughed and shared many stories of the downfall of Lord Petros and the evil Zelfos. Rema shared not all he knew, but the news that he was brother to the fallen king amazed Gymble, and the story of how it all ended in the Vaudim seemed more the stuff of myth each time he told it. Nemul was cheerful enough but Rema sensed that he still suffered much from what he had endured.
Several times in small towns along the way they pulled in and Gymble did business. This afforded Rema the chance to wander the streets unhindered listening to the conversations and sensing the mood of the land. He was amazed that in almost all these places there was some memory of a chanted poem or prophecy, and he realised that Serenna’s ruse to subvert the king by spreading the prophecy had worked far better than any of them had suspected. He wished most powerfully then that he could tell her of this success, for he was sure that it had played a bigger part than they would ever understand. It was a bitter pain to know that he would never now have that chance.