Jadde - The Fragile Sanctuary

by Clive Ousley

  Halle conceded with a nod, which encouraged Malkrin to continue.

  ‘If you conclude they are well fed then you must suspect we are the ones from an impoverished area. So the further we travel from Cyprusnia the more abundant game should be.’

  ‘And fruit, wild corn and nuts in the autumn fall,’ Seara chipped in.

  ‘Yes indeed daughter. And well put Sire, I hope you’re right.’ Halle said as he looked around.

  ‘The Wolf bandits will be a stepping stone in our search for Jadde. I’m hoping they will point us in her direction.’ Halle nodded and his face relaxed, convinced. Malkrin had watched Seara out of the corner of his eye; she was concentrating, taking in his argument. He was pleased she had then joined the conversation.

  Malkrin distributed Seara’s and Halle’s packs between the three of them and they set off. The wind gusted enough to knock him off his footing. They passed the wildcat carcass with its singed head and imbedded stick.

  ‘There’s enough meat on it for another stew,’ Seara stated, glancing with laughing eyes at Malkrin.

  ‘No, I’ve had enough of that creature,’ he responded trying not to smile. She’s bearing up well, he thought. Then he added to himself; I did an efficient job during the life and death struggle. It filled him with a hunter’s satisfaction.

  It had been four days since Malkrin had first rested in the cave and he felt stiff and out of condition. He caught the rhythm of the journey and his body settled into it; soon he no longer noticed the wind. His injuries now itched more than throbbed. He marvelled at the power of Seara’s healing.

  The view constantly changed as they followed a clear track winding between fallen boulders and through small gullies. All the time they were progressing downhill. Then when walking along a gully the buffeting wind abated. They enjoyed the respite; the sun began to warm them. Gusts, when they were caught on open ground, diminished to a mere breeze, it was such a welcome reprieve Malkrin saw it as a good omen – Jadde was with them. The downhill progress continued. They walked toward the sun as it approached its zenith, knowing the direction was opposite to Cyprusnia. The track agreed with Malkrin’s sense of direction and took them further from all they had known. Then as the sun progressed through the sky they came to a fork in the track. Malkrin and Halle chose the path that led away from Cyprusnia. The other track seemed to run in a line parallel to their old home. Scrub trees started to appear. One was a large wild pear, they sampled the ripening fruit, deciding they were a few weeks too early and left it. It was a good sign, backing Malkrin’s earlier argument.

  That night as the sun set behind them they camped in a ravine. The gravel bed was dry, but Malkrin guessed it would flood in the winter storms. They kept the same watches that night. The next morning he examined the boulders beside the gravel, they were smooth as if at one time a permanent torrent had raged through the ravine. They continued the journey, progressing gradually downhill then along a level plain covered in a blanket of rye and bluegrass. In the distance a huge herd of large beasts sauntered as they munched grass. They had small horns on large heads and looked to be covered in loose fur, but presented no obvious danger and were soon out of sight.

  The plain became a slow descent and the Great Mountain diminished in size then disappeared into a shroud of mist. The air felt thicker and richer as they progressed.

  ‘I hardly need to breathe,’ Seara stated in wonder and skipped ahead full of youthful energy.

  ‘Careful, stay with us,’ Halle commanded.

  She ran quickly back and circled them.

  ‘I feel as if I could just run forever,’ she shouted.

  ‘Let’s try it. If only to get rid of your daughter’s energy,’ Malkrin suggested.

  So they ran as if chasing a herd of deer. An hourglass later they stopped at a stream to refill their water leathers.

  ‘This air,’ Halle commented, ‘it’s like honey beer and lemon water. I can’t get enough of it.’

  They all laughed with the unaccustomed freedom.

  Breathing so shallowly was a strange feeling and it had energised them all. Malkrin guessed that if it came to an enforced run the rich air would aid them.

  During the next break Halle disappeared for five minutes and returned with a brace of rabbits. The hunting was good here, and they were ravenous. They soon had a fire burning. Malkrin rejoiced as he filled a battered metal plate with wild corn and carrots to add to the skewered rabbit that Seara had roasted.

  Seara had brought the plate in her backpack. It had been in her mother’s family for generations and was easy to carry as the metal was so light. Malkrin wondered idly whether it was as old as the ancients. It was certainly a metal the Edentown blacksmiths would have puzzled over.

  Later that day they came to a hillock in the flat plain. As they drew closer to the protrusion Seara’s sharp eyes spotted the criss-crossing of raised lines. Nearer still the lines solidified into broken walls and enclosures with a ruined building atop the hillock. They approached cautiously in case unknown creatures or men had built the structures and still lurked there. On close inspection they were unused and covered in moss and ivy, in places impenetrable with bracken. They were in an abandoned settlement. Malkrin could make out a hearth and chimney in one wall and elsewhere square openings in the vegetation showed where windows had been. They wandered around the ruins, but there was no sign of timber or usable tools. It made them uneasy. They discussed whether the building materials had been robbed to build new dwellings nearby. Then Halle formed the idea that the settlement had been abandoned lifetimes ago and the structures had mainly rotted back into the soil.

  It was the most likely explanation. They relaxed and returned to the most intact ruin with the highest walls and hearth. They cooked a meal and used the shelter of the walls to camp for the night.

  Halle muttered, ‘I feel the faint presence of ghosts. They had a sad passing.’ He commented and fell silent.

  Being within a haunted ruin meant they could be attacked by any manner of ghoul, so Malkrin set an alert guard that night. But when his turn came to cover himself in his thick fur he slept as if Jadde shielded him.

  The next day the three walked at a steady pace. They continued along the flat plain where more stunted trees broke through the long rye grass. Then occasionally they passed more ruins battered down by lifetimes of decay. Malkrin wondered if at one time they were farms amongst fields of corn. Wild wheat grew in scattered clumps which seemed to back his theory, whilst piles of loose stones still formed ragged lines as if once walls. Soon, trees became taller and thicker, and a diversity of flowers grew amongst them. Halle scratched the ground with his spear and declared it quality crop growing land.

  They discussed why people would abandon land capable of a good yield. It was another mystery to think about. Then came a natural but not unexpected obstacle; a thick scrub barrier. It forced them to search through increasingly tangled hawthorn, scrub trees and bracken for a path to continue along. After a long detour, an animal track led forward into conifer woodland so dense they couldn’t set an accurate bearing. They wandered a faint path in the gloom using Malkrin and Halle’s hunter senses as a guide.

  The sun was at its highest point when Malkrin’s highsense alerted him to being watched. Halle then felt the presence of strangers. They started looked closely into the tree shadows and then behind them, hoping not to spot any followers.

  Malkrin kept a hand on Palerin’s hilt and Halle shifted his bow and thrust his spear before him. They kept Seara between them.

  They progressed steadily downhill again and gradually the closely packed trees opened out a little. Malkrin made out the sound of water roaring rapidly in a narrow channel. They rounded a bend and the sky suddenly appeared deep blue before them and the steep slope fell away bare of trees. The track turned abruptly right at a cliff edge. Below was a massive gorge with high rock cliffs running along both sides. Far down in the gorge a river rushed in a foaming torrent, its wildness and ferocity was like
nothing they had experienced in the Cyprusnia valleys. Clearly there was no way forward.

  ‘We have to go back,’ Halle stated resignedly, for there was no safe way of climbing down and crossing the seething flood.

  ‘We’ll walk along the cliff, look for a path downwards so we can ford the torrent and reach . . . ’

  Malkrin highsensed a twig snap from the woodland behind them. He turned toward the sound.

  Through the trees appeared faces tattooed with blue swirls and lines – he couldn’t see bodies attached. The heads appeared to be floating unsupported. He felt uncertain about their reality: were they ghosts of men or the demons the priesthood had always warned of? Malkrin drew Palerin and noted Halle push Seara behind him and thrust his spear forwards.

  ‘Give me your bow Father,’ Seara implored, but Halle ignored her.

  Within the leafy shadows, heads moved forward, branches parted and sunlight joined bodies to the faces to reveal human forms. They wore bandannas of ivy threaded through green dyed cloth that appeared woven into long skirts over green leggings. The combination of cloth and vegetation blended the people seamlessly with the tree and shrub backdrop. The effect was one of animated vegetation. Very clever, Malkrin thought and realised that was why he could only see disembodied faces.

  One of the devils jumped from the undergrowth and danced in a ritual weaving of arms and hands in intricate patterns. The flowing ivy and leaf clothing swirled about him like river weed in a whirlpool. He wore a short cloak around his neck bedecked with rattling bones which created an eerie sound to accompany his twirling rhythm. The only weapon in evidence on the devil was a short bone knife on a leather belt around his waist.

  ‘They don’t feel hostile,’ Halle announced; his eyes momentarily glazed.

  ‘I think it’s a message in dance; a greeting.’ Malkrin muttered.

  Before they could stop her, Seara ran forward. Her hands palm flat before her in a gesture of submission and greeting.

  The lunatic dancer swept about her as if she were part of a rehearsed ritual. She stood still, palms extended as he whirled around. Malkrin noticed the dancer’s eyes never left her face. Then the man lowered his head and crouched at her feet. It was a sign for the rest of the tribe to leave the trees.

  Halle rushed forward to wrap his arms around his daughter, Malkrin was only a step behind him.

  ‘It’s all right Sire,’ Halle turned to Malkrin, ‘these ivy people are welcoming.’

  Malkrin held out his hands imitating Seara’s relaxed approach. An elderly ivy-man met him and placed hands palm down over his and the meeting was initiated. More Ivy people poured from the trees and gathered around the three, gibbering excitedly in an unknown tongue. Seara now had her hands locked with a girl of about her age. The girl began to show Seara how to perform the greeting dance.

  ‘It’s a dance to honour and respect strangers,’ Seara exclaimed with pleasure.

  Malkrin glanced suspiciously at the trees. No one else lurked there. He put his instinctive caution to one side; and was ushered to sit with three of the tribe’s elders at the tree edge. Halle joined him and they listened in bemusement to the high pitched language. They attempted to communicate with sign talk but received shrugs in return.

  ‘This is laborious Sire, let me try something.’

  Malkrin’s highsense felt Halle grasp a gossamer flow emanating from the elder’s minds. He guessed his companion was caressing the thoughts behind the twittering birdsong words. Halle’s eyes glazed and his mouth hung open as his gift worked as it never had before. His eyes floated from one elder to another as if separating or assigning their different thought patterns. The ivy-people seemed to realise the need to jabber in continued explanation. Malkrin suddenly realised he had created another small highsense to observe Halle.

  After a quarter of an hourglass Halle suddenly looked to Malkrin.

  ‘They are a nomadic people called the Skatheln, and are journeying to higher ground to see if they can enter the shroud of ice. An important god lives there and they desire to gain her aid. They flee a great scourge. The images I see are monstrous, as if crushed ant hills have spilled demon insects bent on revenge. These people come from a distant forest teaming with creatures, the lushness of which I can hardly describe. Bulwan the elder has asked that we lead them along a legendary crystal path into the ice to beseech their departed god to return. She has deserted them in their time of need. I believe they think us also gods. It’s something to do with the way we think.’

  ‘They’re picking up on our highsense abilities.’

  ‘I’m afraid so, but I can only use my voice to talk back . . . Hold on, I’ve an idea.’

  Halle’s eyes glassed again. Malkrin waited. The ivy people fell silent and gazed into his eyes as if sinking into them. Eventually Halle emerged from the faraway look. He took a deep breath as if he’d concentrated so hard he had forgotten to breathe.

  ‘I wondered if I could project images of where we come from to show we are not gods. It seems to have worked, Bulwan projects sorrow that we are human. He now appears to think us sorcerers.’

  ‘Let him think that, it’ll keep them in awe of us.’ Before Halle resumed his communication Malkrin quickly added, ‘show them our quest and why we can’t return to guide them.’

  Another quarter hourglass later the ivy-people gave Malkrin a nod of understanding. Then as one they held out their palms; then slowly raised them to their shoulders. Not knowing how to respond Malkrin and Halle imitated them. It was the right thing to do and Bulwan smiled. The whole gathering relaxed with the camaraderie of fellow refugees.

  Bulwan clapped his hands and a young boy and two girls approached from amongst the trees holding wooden bowls of broth laced with succulent leafs. Malkrin sniffed the warm mixture; it smelt of rich herbs. He nodded to Halle and they sipped the liquid. Malkrin raised an eyebrow – it was good. He took another sip. Excellent, a bit like the venison and carrot broth that was Cabryce’s favourite. It filled him with energy; he felt he could run all day.

  The boy handed Seara a bowl. She stopped the dance to sit with her father and devour the soup.

  It was the strangest meal they had ever consumed. Halle occasionally stopped eating to update them on the messages the ivy-people were projecting. Occasionally they broke into their twittering tongue. But it still made little sense, so Halle continued the mental communication.

  ‘The enemy they fear are called the Archegrie who have emerged from deep within their legends. They are hell-born insects with the faces of men and the icy souls of pitiless devils.’

  Halle shivered, and something of the intensity of Bulwan’s memories filtered like a cold wind into Malkrin’s mind. The

  Archgry were something from the holy scripts. Just a name from a past long gone, but the word still contained an inbuilt fear for all the Seconchane.

  ‘Do they mean the Alchgry, from Jadde’s scriptures?’

  ‘The coincidence is surely too great.’

  ‘We must think more on this later. Continue with him and find out more.’

  Halle nodded and submerged into the thought stream.

  Soon he re-emerged. ‘Their quest bears some resemblance to the second tale of Jadde. The one the priests taught us in our learning years,’ Halle spoke between mouthfuls of broth.

  Without thinking Malkrin went through the second scripture in his mind as if a priest was chanting it.

  A man of good standing came to Cyprusnia. He told of a great Goddess emerging from the mouth of a giant bird resting on the shores of a mountain lake. The fabulous being then chanted spells to a blinking eye on her wrist. He humbled himself before her and she smiled and wished him peace. He dared ask her name. She smiled again and the name appeared in his head. Jadde. His head throbbed with the power of the name. She had enchanted him. Then Jadde ordered him to continue his journey. His legs obeyed although he wanted to stay and question the Goddess further.

  But he forced a backward glance and the spell was br
oken.

  He looked and saw Jadde walk into the lake which had turned to liquid crystal. She walked down glass steps without causing a ripple to stir the water. He ran over to aid her and looked down within the glittering liquid. She had sunk below, walking glass steps to a realm where the lake was held back by a great glass castle. He watched her lay down to sleep within the building on a bed of emeralds and diamonds. He waited a day and a night at the water’s edge peering in. The great bird behind him tired of waiting and took off with a huge cry. It spread sand and dust over the man – but still he awaited her awakening. He waited many days and nights. Finally he boldly placed a toe in the water, daring to follow in rescue. The castle swam from him and he dared not follow. And so he waited on the bank, and waited for its return. And waited: then died.

  Now she still awaits someone to discover her crystal castle, awaken her and return her to the people of Cyprusnia.

  Malkrin swept back from the memory of the priest reciting the script. He became aware that Halle, Seara and the ivy-people all stared at him in wonder.

  ‘Well recited Sire,’ Halle praised.

  Seara looked from one awed ivy framed face to another, ‘I think we all felt the tale within us.’

  ‘I just recited the scripture to myself. I suppose, to see how it related to the ivy-peoples’ journey.’

  Bulwan came over to Malkrin and stooped on one knee and twittered in his strange tongue.

  ‘He is asking for the third story,’ Halle explained.

  ‘We must thank Bulwan and ask something of them before I recite the final account.’ Malkrin thought for a long moment on the best exchange for the tale. ‘Ask Bulwan to describe their gods and why they have deserted his tribe? There may be a clue to help our understanding of the great Goddess.

  Halle thought the question, his eyes closed in concentration. Bulwan twittered, and added gestures and signs as he spoke. Finally the chief sat and looked around him; a lost look filled his face.