by Chris Ward
Back on the water he found some consolation for the river was at its best, and the travelling easy. Rema felt a deep peace begin to soothe his soul and the pain of his parting with Sylvion receded a little.
And then a miracle.
As they were making slow progress to moor in Gymble’s home town of Westebende toward evening on the fourteenth day, Gymble noticed a woman standing on the dock. He cast a look and then another and Rema noticed immediately that she concerned him greatly.
As they neared she started waving and Gymble suddenly gave a cry, fell to his knees and wept.
‘It is my Gracelin,’ he cried. ‘She has returned. I cannot believe this and yet it is surely her.’
Rema hoped desperately that his friend had not been tricked by one who bore a resemblance to his wife, but there was no mistake. Gymble hardly had the patience to secure his craft before bounding onto the dock and sweeping his weeping wife up off her feet. Their tears and cries of joy brought many to watch the near hysterical couple.
Gymble finally drew breath and waved Rema over. The huge old Barger found it hard to breathe for his mighty chest was heaving with emotion, but made introductions as best he could.
Rema shook Gracelin’s hand and noticed that her flesh was pure and unblemished. Gymble too stared hard at her features and the poor joyous woman could contain herself no longer.
‘Dear Gymble I am cured. My flesh was falling from my bones and then one night I felt a change and in the morning I found myself healed of all disease. My skin is better than I ever knew. The officials sent me home; there was no longer any reason to be kept locked away. And, oh how I have longed for this moment Gymble! So many summers lost, but now we can be together for all the years we have remaining. Can anyone believe my tale?’ She spoke with true reverence and awe, her face wet with tears of joy.
Rema breathed a silent prayer of thanks into the air and knew that somewhere El-Arathor would hear.
Gracelin was a small woman but strongly boned and full of infectious laughter. Despite her sorry tale of loss and separation from her husband, she soon had the old barge humming with life, and even poor Nemul was regularly caught up in her firm embrace and made a fuss of. Rema saw that he would take some time to adjust to her presence, but her sincerity was such that none could take offence. They stayed two days in that place by which time Rema knew that his journey with his dear friend was at an end. He could not crowd the barge when the new family had so much to do. He took Gymble aside and thanked him for his hospitality and gave him a small bag of gold to tide him over the tough times which all Bargers face from time to time. It was gratefully accepted, for times had been hard for many moons, and now with his wife returned Gymble was desperate to make her home a happy place, well stocked with food and fancy things of which she had seen little whilst exiled on Leper Island.
‘You deserve to have a family again Gymble,’ Rema said as they stood on the dock grasping hands firmly as all Bargers like to do. ‘Young Nemul loves you clearly, and he will soon feel the same way about your Gracelin, for she is a loving woman and that is what he needs. I will always remember you my friend. I cannot promise to return, but if in times ahead I pass by this land I will search for you.’
Gymble shed a tear then which was something he had done greatly over recent days.
‘I will miss you Rema Bowman. I’ll never forget your frightening my pigs in the hold that first day you came aboard. That memory will surely keep me laughing on cold nights...’ He paused and then spoke more seriously.
‘...Or your skill with the bow Rema, for you saved young Nemul and me with a single shot.’
Rema nodded as that memory came to him.
‘And you saved me once more Rema,’ he continued, ‘when you had the grace to listen to a bitter man bare his soul. I was not well in my mind you see, and your quiet acceptance of my plight did much to set me right. I had been alone too long with my thoughts. Your stumbling from the forest onto my barge was perhaps meant to be.’ Rema nodded again, for perhaps Gymble was right in this.
And so with little fuss they parted. Rema purchased a fine brown mare and supplies and set out across the sparsely settled country to the west, skirting below the Great Southern Forest and passing through the small village of Levit. He had made up his mind to visit Leper Island and see what had become of his brother, for some intuition told him that once separated from the evil of Zelfos, Refr might be somewhat restored, and he could not return to the highlands and home without knowing his fate.
And so after many days and nights he came to Soris on the Sea of Separation where he stabled his mount and took a passage on the small ship Fairwind, arriving at Blight on Leper Island two days later having sailed happily across a calm sea with a steady wind.
The Leper colony was a depressing place and Rema found quickly that when the wind blew across the town the smell of fear and sadness mixed with rotting flesh was overpowering, although the inhabitants seemed well used to it and did not complain in the least. He had no fear of lepers believing that simple cleanliness was his best protection, and so he moved easily about in a place only recently set free from strict rules controlling travel and contact, for Sylvion’s decrees had reached the Island and many unjustly transported had already been allowed to return to their homes on the mainland.
It did not take Rema long to find his brother. The fallen king was well known to all in the colony and he had suffered greatly at their hands, for his cruel rule had made their lives a lonely misery devoid of all contact with loved ones in the outside world. Rema asked directions from soldiers and townsfolk and without exception they directed him to the outskirts of the town to a place where a ramshackle mud brick house with a lopsided thatched roof stood alone by a stream of cool clear water. There was a pig sty containing a solitary sow, and several tired chickens scratched earnestly in the dirt by the front door. Out the back was a crude rope line strung between two trees and on it hung some washing. Rema noticed immediately that the clothes were not all for a man and he wondered who could possibly have chanced her luck with such a man as his brother, seemingly the enemy of all on the Island.
He knocked on the door and was surprised when a cheery voice called out.
‘I’ll get that Refr.’
Footsteps sounded loudly on bare baked earth and the door swung open. Rema was astonished to see before him a most beautiful young woman, far younger than his brother. She seemed pure of skin and her smile was genuine. He had been expecting a surly welcome and yet here was this lovely young woman standing there smiling at him as though he was a welcome visitor.
‘Hello my friend,’ she said, ‘I don’t believe we have met. My name is Helgas and you are welcome to come take refreshment here. We cannot offer much but what we have is for sharing. We do not shun any with leprosy in this house. What would your name be sira?’
Rema was astonished. In such a place It was the most natural thing to believe that any caller would be infected with the leprosy, such a feared and hated disease, but there was no angry threats or locked doors, just a cheery welcome and an invitation to enter.
‘Who is there Helgas?’ The voice of his brother came from within. It was tinged with hoarseness but seemed strong enough, for it carried clearly to them at the door.
‘What name shall I give sira?’ the beautiful young woman asked, and then laughed. ‘You must realise that this man was once a king and is used to knowing all who come before him.’ It was not said with any malice, just a refined sense of humour which looked to make the best of whatever troubles were encountered.
‘My name is Rema, Rema Bowman,’ he replied quietly, wondering if she had heard of his name. Indeed she seemed to register some memory, as though deep within her mind a connection with another life had for a moment been made, but then it passed.
‘Someone by the name of Rema Bowman,’ she called out over her shoulder.
No sooner had she done so than a muffled cry was heard and footsteps sounded as though one was hobb
ling quickly but painfully towards them.
The young woman, Helgas smiled weakly at Rema.
‘It seems that Refr would like to meet you sira. He is not always so obliging.’
The door suddenly swung right open and the two brothers stood face to face. Rema was moved to see the man who had slain him, and loved him, looking pale and worn with worry. His right leg was heavily bandaged and there was evidence on his face of corrupt flesh, but for all of this Rema knew immediately that he looked upon a different man than the one who once was known as Lord Petros Luminos, Lord of Light. Refr was a man who now knew struggle and hardship, worry and fear, illness and persecution. There was a deeper humanity to him, so far from the proud arrogance which he had exhibited to the last in Ramos as he desperately tried to hold on to the throne.
‘Rema, my brother, you came here to see me?’ His words were those of a man deeply moved. Tears fell silently down his cheeks. ‘I have wished long to see you, for I have had time to think upon all that I have done wrong, and in truth there is much of that.’
There was a silence for a time as the three glanced from one to the other.
‘You have come to look upon my dissipation?’ Refr said finally in sadness.
‘No Refr,’ Rema replied gently. ‘I do not come in judgement; I come as a brother who looks for one lost. I believe you yourself know what moves a man to do such a thing.’
Refr smiled weakly.
‘Come in Rema, I am ashamed that I cannot offer much beyond shelter from the weather. We do not have much Helgas and I, but I have learnt that what we have is worth more than all I ever thought I possessed as king in Ramos.’
He smiled at Helgas who blushed and reached for his hand which she held lovingly.
His words moved Rema deeply and he knew that what he had hoped for was true. That Refr removed from the influence of Zelfos was a different man.
He spent a day with the two. Helgas and Refr. He learnt that she had been sent from his service to exile on Leper Island and when he too arrived they had by remarkable circumstances found each other and joined company in harsh surroundings, not least because of the wonderful forgiving nature of Helgas.
‘Her forgiveness of my cruel behaviour shook me to the core Rema,’ his brother spoke as they sat before a roaring fire and drank a little ale. ‘Helgas saved me. I owe all to her, and her love has made me whole again, for I lost my soul somewhere in Revelyn and did not know it.’
He turned and smiled at Rema.
‘I do not deserve to see you again brother, but at least I can tell you truthfully now that I searched long for you when at last I left the Faero Islands and came to Revelyn. I had not then lost my heart. But I did not find you; only Zelfos found me, and to my shame I was seduced by his power.’ He cried silently as many regrets overcame him.
‘I have treated many people evilly Rema. But now I have leprosy and this above all things I feared. Now it does not seem near enough to pay for all I have done. I will not last another summer, for what ails me has spread fast. My leg was good and healthy just a full moon past, and now I cannot use it. Helgas has promised to stay with me to the end, and then she is free to return home for Revelyn’s new Queen has changed all the laws I decreed to keep people in this sad place of disappointment. It is a good thing Rema, that she took the throne. A good thing. I deserve all this, but not the love of such a one,’ and here he reached over and held Helgas’ hand and they sat and stared silently into the fire for a very long time.
Finally Rema spoke.
‘I am glad I came Refr. Much has come to pass which I do not understand. I have witnessed events which I will spend the rest of my life trying to understand. We have both lost much, and then in the end perhaps gained some things as well. I will leave you with this.’
Rema took from around his neck, the small whale bone sword which Refr himself had carved and asked to be given him if ever he returned unexpected to the Faero Islands. Refr was deeply moved to see it once more.
‘You shall keep it now, Refr my brother,’ said Rema with great emotion, ‘It will remind you that in the end we did find each other. I wish many things could be different, but life is not that way ordered. I am happy to see that you are restored within, that your heart now seems right. This will comfort me greatly in the future. So I leave you in peace.’
And with that he left. He had seen all he needed to see, and knew all he needed to know. They did not request he stay further, for the time they had shared seemed exactly right. Rema left and did not look back, and within two days was back once more on the mainland where he turned his head north to the mountains. The highlands beckoned strongly now and it was a call too long avoided.
Rema Bowman was going home.
*
He cantered swiftly through verdant grasslands toward the Barrier Mountains which loomed impressively to the northwest. His mare was very willing after a few days rest and pulled hard at the reins as though anxious to please, so good progress was made towards the enormous Central Upthrust which lay just over the horizon, drawing him on. The weather was mild and the hunting good. Huge herds of wild Aledope deer seemed to constantly spring up from the long grass and race off in great agitation as he passed. He ate well and camped each night by clear streams under skies which held countless stars so bright that they seemed close enough to touch. He was alone in a beautiful land and he loved it deeply.
Rema felt at peace for the first time in a very long while.
On the fourth day he rode down out of the Rolling Hills and met the Swifft River which further east met the Luminos in a massive bog and marsh land, but this far up it was well named for it flowed smooth, fast and clear with hardly a ripple, so that it held beautiful reflections of all colours. Rema followed it north until the massive Upthrust appeared before him. Two days later he rode into the gorge which the river had slowly cut out of the rock over the ages, till finally he could go no further. He knew that no man had ever climbed these cliffs for they were sheer and smooth, but he also knew that long before men entered Revelyn the mountain dwarves had built a pathway in this very gorge which allowed them easy travel from highland to lowland and to other places deep within the mountains, for they loved to tunnel. The knowledge of the path had passed to men but it had been lost half an age before such that only the vaguest stories still told of it. But Rema had a clue which no other had ever possessed. He was sure that the polished black marble key which El-Arathor had left him was the key to opening the pathway, an entrance into the cliffs just like the gates to AlGiron.
He camped in the deep shadows of the Swifft River Gorge, several leagues short of the mighty waterfall which marked the river’s plunge from the highlands far above to its new journey in the lowlands, and there he planned his search.
It took longer than he had hoped, for the cliffs seemed reluctant to reveal their secret. Five days Rema searched, always in high spirits, believing that he would succeed, but by the end he was weary and losing hope. From the waterfall on both sides of the river he had explored every cleft and cave for many leagues. He found strange carvings and many ancient markings in a language lost to all knowledge. The mark of the dwarves however was always close by, for none other had mastered the art of hewing rock so smoothly such that even a simple well or cave dwelling seemed more work of art than function.
Rema looked for black marble. The key in which he placed all his hope was made of this so beautiful a material. He thought that if he could only find a vein of marble, just the merest hint or trace, it would stand out clearly against the common rocks which abounded.
In the end his guess was true. On the sixth day not far from where he had first camped he found a pillar of black marble by the river on the east side, which passed not ten paces from the sheer wall of the gorge. He had looked till then only at the massive cliffs, not thinking that the secret might lie some distance off. By chance, the sun and spray and an accidental stumble solved the mystery, for suddenly as he steadied himself he spied the shiny pi
llar gleaming by the water. In a trice he was examining it, and sure enough at its top, the height of a dwarf axe above the ground, he found what he had long searched for. Three small holes, equidistant apart, together forming the corners of a triangle.
His heart leapt then for he knew that this exact pattern was matched by his key. Carefully he took it from his tunic and placed it over the holes. He gave a cry of triumph.
‘At last, it is solved!’ He pumped the air with a fist and enjoyed the feeling that his guesswork had proven true.
Within a span he had broken camp and in great anticipation led his faithful horse back to the spot where a new marvel was about to appear.
Three short protrusions on the key fitted perfectly into the holes on the polished pillar of black marble. He inserted the key and waited, turning back to the nearby cliffs in eager expectation. He did not have to wait long.
The smooth rock gave a gentle crack, as though an egg held too hard had fractured. An outline of a door appeared, five cubits high and three in width. As he watched, the rock within this line turned a whiter grey and shone dully as some deep dwarf magic worked. Without a sound, when all was ready, the door swung inwards on some massive hinge and there before Rema was a dark passage leading into the mountain. He was reminded of the gates into AlGiron and so he was not afraid, for the Mountain dwarves built fearfully well.
His horse was of a different mind and took great encouragement to enter so small and dark a passage, but once in was easily led. The mighty rock door swung shut only after Rema found a matching key hole within the passage and used his polished marble key once more. The dark was not complete for the passage like the Gates to AlGiron was but thirty paces in length and then opened into a circular shaft which reached up into the mountain above. This passage did not reach up in a manner which revealed the sky above and Rema realised that light entered by horizontal shafts cut out to the cliff face at regular intervals. The circular path around the shaft however was not as high as he had had experienced in AlGiron, for those gates, although built by dwarves were for the use of the Edenwhood who stood far taller than any man. His horse was sorely tested in climbing this path and Rema himself bumped his head with a curse often enough.