by Clive Ousley
Halle related the images he had seen floating through Bulwan’s mind. ‘The Skatheln’s gods appeared regularly at full moon to their elders. They showed where the best game was to be hunted and when and where to grow crops for the best yield. It seems the Skatheln relied heavily on their gods advice and ‘a summoning’ was an eagerly awaited event for the whole tribe. During the ceremony a ghostly apparition would float into their woodland temple and speak. The whole tribe would listen intently as the gods instructed the elders. They would then hunt and grow crops according to the divine word. Apparently wheat, oats, apples and other strange fruit grew well, giving the tribe plenty of food. Game congregated ready to be slaughtered, ensuring the people’s bellies would be full, even in winter. All went well for untold lifetimes until the last full moon ceremony. A god was instructing, and then suddenly finished by adding an unheard of warning. The god warned of the dangers of approaching Archegrie demons.
Abruptly the god had shimmered and vanished.
The elders were horribly disturbed. Then from behind a nearby mount, dark storm clouds appeared and a crackle of lightning forked from the mountain setting nearby trees alight. It was a bad omen and the tribe were mortified. They sacrificed lambs, cockerels and pigs to the gods and implored them for further guidance. But the gods never returned. They tried a valuable sacrifice; a young orphan child, to no avail. Then they sent their gods another special gift. A child offered by fearful parents.
But their gods stayed away, and for the first time the Skatheln had to think for themselves. Decisions came hard to them. But when the first demons were sighted they finally decided to search for the missing gods in a distant domain. They hoped to persuade them to return and to come to the tribe’s aid. Then from the lightning smashed mountain a horde of Archegrie emerged. They run now before the evil tide.’
‘By Jadde – how long have they been searching and running?’
‘Apparently for six full moons.’
Malkrin looked at Bulwan, their gods had indeed deserted them. He looked from one expectant tribesman to another. He couldn’t help them find their gods, who he feared defeated by the Archegrie. But he hoped the third tale of Jadde would give them some ideas and perhaps some hope.
‘I’ll tell them the third scripture,’ he stated simply. ‘It’s all we can offer them.’ Then he looked at Bulwan and thought about the sacred script he remembered a pious priest reciting to a respectful boy all those years ago.
‘Jadde the silver robed Goddess stood ten feet tall on a rock overseeing her adoring disciples. She opened her arms encompassing them all and bent a small silver twig to her mouth. Her voice boomed giant words through it. The people cowered again for the volume of her revered voice had set a spell within them. She spoke these words.
‘I will entertain those of you who have gained higher senses. Those who learn to rise above mere living. These will be the people who will sit with me on the right and on the left of my emerald throne. This will only happen when you have learnt to master the gifts of the mind as I have demonstrated. Meanwhile you will thrive according to my instructions and guard your lands against a return of the Archgry.’ The Goddess held aloft the symbol of achievement, a golden sun. Then she continued, ‘let this be the symbol for a talent gained. Let all aspire to achieve the status this token implies. I will return when all have gained the knowledge and skills to wear these high emblems. For now I bid you, my people, farewell.’
The great Goddess shimmered and she floated into the huge bird’s mouth. The bird closed its beak then swept up the mountain to Tarn Lake. Here the bird changed into a fish and swam down to her palace. There she waits to this day.’
Malkrin looked around the tribe, noting they were concentrating intently on him.
‘Again, well told Sire,’ Halle whispered, ‘the words were even clearer in my head that time.’
Bulwan spoke, and gradually his birdsong speech sped up and grew louder as other members of the Skathen joined in, sounding like a flock of starlings greeting sunset.
Halle held fingers to his temples then interpreted.
‘Bulwan and his elders’ thank you for the third tale, he says it will give them much discussion over the evening campfires.’
Bulwan started chirping again, his tone different to before.
Halle took a deep breath, paused, then said excitedly. ‘We may have a problem,’ his voice rose in urgency. ‘He says we are being sought by strangers.’
Malkrin’s hand went straight to Palerin’s hilt, ‘how many? Are they near?’
‘Relax Sire, Bulwan says it was a day ago and they will be well ahead of us now.’
‘Find out how many of them and who they were. Get as much detail as you can.’
Bulwan’s birdsong started before Malkrin had finished. The rapport was becoming fine-tuned, as if Bulwan was listening through Halle.
‘He says there were three. They were dressed in strange cloaks and ritual masks that changed their faces with reflecting light. They spoke quietly, but their words demanded obedience and truth from all the Skatheln that greeted them.
‘And they seek us?’ Malkrin rasped.
‘They spoke of one who was outcast, and gave your description. Then they asked about his companions as if we were strangers to them.’
Halle paused and swallowed. He hesitated, then looked at Malkrin intently, ‘are you ready for a shock Sire.’
‘Tell me – get on with it.’ Malkrin responded instantly, his hunters instinct honed to bursting.
‘Each of the searchers had three gold suns on their cloak clasps.’
CHAPTER NINE
Cabryce felt a guards’ fetid breath on her neck as her wrists were bound together. Rough hands shoved her to the open door; they burst from her comfy fire-lit home into a gale which blew leaves and straw up the muddy street. A Brenna soldier was ordered to guard her cottage and she was led past the dense hovels at speed. Her mind was racing fit to burst as she glimpsed Nardin retreat into a shadowed doorway. Old Ned came out of his cottage wide-eyed and quickly slammed his door when he saw her being dragged along. Strangely, she was pleased two friends had witnessed her arrest. At least the Brenna could not spread any stories about her leaving Edentown after her husband.
For a moment she hoped Nardin would rescue her then just as quickly realised the futility of any such bravado. Nardin had been lucky to be late or the Brenna would have had him as well. Then a terrible thought crossed her mind. Had Nardin known she would have a visitor? Had he informed the Brenna? Immediately she dismissed the idea, her life-long friend would not ever consider betraying her and Malkrin.
But surely someone had. And who was the brave rebel she had met so briefly? Had one of his brethren set up her arrest or was it all a terrible coincidence?
She had no way of answering the hammering questions, so she put them to the back of her mind and resolved to escape at the first opportunity.
Five horses awaited them outside the twisting alleys. Horses were a rare form of transport reserved by the Brenna solely for their use and Cabryce realised she would be forced to trot alongside like a common criminal. It will be less humiliating on foot; she thought as she contemplated falling from a horse. A commoner was never taught to ride.
The Brenna Officer climbed onto a large dappled grey stallion. His men mounted four chestnut mares, using the saddle pommels to heave themselves up. The Officer issued an order and the horses trotted forward, forcing Cabryce to run and stumble in front of them. They all took great pleasure in Cabryce’s every wrong footing, one kept prodding her back with the butt of his lance. Then he howled each time with cruel laughter.
Shadowed figures looked out of yellow fire-lit windows and open doors at the commotion. They quickly darted away, silently closing doors in case they were the next to be arrested.
The uneven cobbles and occasional ruts of the town’s streets gave way to a hard surface known as crete. This firm road gave her feet grip so she no longer stumbled in the blackness.
She ran in rhythm to the horses shod hooves. The Brenna guard gave up prodding her, bored with the lack of response. Before the lights of the town had faded her heart was racing fit to burst and her legs felt like dead sticks. Soon she fell for the first time. Eventually her legs would not go many steps without folding. A gruff order sounded, her hands were untied and she was hoisted behind one of the mounted soldiers. She had to grab his unwashed cloak to keep astride the horse. The smell of the rancid cape, his sweat and the odour of horse made her stomach churn. She tried to keep facing toward the breeze, but that, combined with the jogging motion of the horse made her neck ache. So she resigned herself to breathing the combination of unpleasant odours.
After some time the moon emerged from the clouds and gave faint colour to the rock-face and ferns on her left. To her right the cliff fell sharply below and all she could make out were the lights of crofter’s cottages beneath. As they travelled higher the air grew colder but fresher. They were far above the town now. She had only been to the Brenna’s fortress homesteads once before, when they had endowed her with her highsense sun. But this journey would hardly end in honour and reward. With a sense of foreboding she wondered what trial she was to endure.
In the distance the roar of water grew steadily louder. They rounded a corner and the grey sparkling mass of the Shimmerrath waterfall appeared far above her where it emerged from high in the steep mountain slopes. It fell in seemingly endless cascades behind the plateau occupied by the Brenna’s homesteads. Then fell further in a series of still massive falls into the dark Fethwerth Pool. This deep lake fed the river Kryway flowing to the lower valleys she knew so well.
A mist from the falls swirled around the party. Soon the whole troop was wet, even the horses glistened and steamed. As they left the roaring falls behind, her legs, arms and back began aching with the lurching motion of the horse.
The road ran in tight turns past the first fortress. The high walls were steep, featureless and foreboding. She could just see lights in the encircling walls and in the grim outlines of lookout turrets.
Another fortified home emerged from the blue-black night. A sun yellow pennant decorated with white doves fluttered in the breeze – the emblem of the Gamlyn family. Flickering torches lit more windows in larger turrets. A great studded door was opened to let the entourage through.
Erich Gamlyn was second in command of the Brenna, with Bredon the Fox his only master. Cabryce recalled people saying; no more pompous and conceited a man had ever lived up the mountain. Cabryce realised she was about to find out if the rumours were true.
She shook her hair and ran her fingers through the matted strands then straightened her back and held her head high.
The inner courtyard was lit with fish-oil lamps on iron poles giving a cloying aroma to the enclosed space. The flickering light gave an intermittent view of a lush space planted with flowering shrubs which masked the outlines of stables, barracks and servants quarters. She was taken to a bare room in a thatched lean-to against the homesteads high inner wall. Without any conversation she was pushed in. The door slammed shut behind her. Cabryce surveyed the room; it contained a clean hearth with a smouldering log fire for heat and two old and worn padded leather stools. A tapestry containing many letters filled one wall, she was too tired to work out the words so ignored it and added a couple of logs to the fire. She drew up a stool and sat warming her weary legs.
She waited expectantly. Her head drooped in the warmth. Nothing happened, so she rested with her head in her folded arms.
A voice interrupted her dreams, and she woke with a start, still seated before the hearth. The fire had burnt down to a dull glow.
‘Come’, the voice ordered again.
Cabryce turned sharply, blinking to clear the sleep from her eyes and mind. A Brenna guard waited for her just inside the room. He wore the same nondescript soldier’s clothes as the ones who’d arrested her. But over this drab uniform he wore the ornate crimson cloak of trusted Brenna servants. On the left shoulder was a bright yellow slash with the same dove decoration that fluttered on the castle walls. He was a high ranking inner-guard; she knew, sworn to protect his master with his life.
Meekly she followed him out into the courtyard and looked up. By the position of the sun it was midmorning. Her stomach rumbled and her legs felt weak reminding her of last night’s strenuous journey.
The guard led the way up a long flight of steps then along a cold stone corridor. Another flight led ever upward. The Gamlyn family’s living areas in timber framed rooms were situated high up and overlooked the view to the distant town and valleys below. As they climbed she peered quickly out of slit windows. The view took her breath away, each fortified home was set into the slopes of the higher plateau in a random but somehow designed manner. Each building had its living accommodation high in the walls, and set to overlook the town and valley exactly as this Gamlyn family residence did. Behind the buildings the Upper Shimmerrath waterfalls thundered. A light breeze carried spray from the torrent and threw it against the cliff walls creating rainbows which floated down to the sparkling Fethwerth pool. She had fond memories of swimming the pool, but from below the rainbows had never been visible. She stopped; it was one of the most beautiful sights she’d ever seen. Even Jadde had no better view unless she was flying astride her bird servant, she thought in awe.
‘Come on,’ the guard shouted gruffly, oblivious to surroundings he had known all his life.
Glancing behind her she entered a warm room. The guard stayed outside. She smelt the scent of fresh bread and goat’s milk with honey. Her mouth watered, reminding her of how well the Brenna lived. She hesitated, and then walked ahead past a rich blue velvet curtain and into a large living area. All around her were vast padded seats and ornate cabinets. Paintings in frames hung around the colour washed walls and many woven tapestries covered the floors. She stared, awed at the opulence of the ruling sect. She touched a gold frame containing the image of Jadde magically creating her holy altar, and looked in awe at the image of the majestic Goddess.
‘Seen enough Cabryce Otterpaw?’ a smooth voice asked.
She spun round to view a large corner desk set at an angle before glass windows overlooking the lower valley. A large rounded figure sat with a faint smile set within a carefully trimmed beard. She could barely see him through the glare of blazing sunlight bursting in through the window. It was a magnificent view, suitable for one of the rulers of the Seconchane. She felt the building was floating in the clouds above the simple town she knew. Cabryce composed herself ready to meet the expected interrogation.
‘Take a seat dear Cabryce. Oh . . . and welcome; my name’s Sire Gamlyn.’
She sat on the edge of the padded chair expecting some magic to lock her wrists to the wooden arms. Nothing untoward happened so she squinted and shielded her eyes to see the silhouetted figure before the bright sunlight. The well dressed Gamlyn sat legs crossed and lounging in a leather-upholstered swivel chair behind a polished desk the size of her kitchen area. He held up loosely linked hands to his chin, but succeeded in looking as if he was about to swat something.
‘I don’t expect you’ve eaten yet. Can I offer you breakfast?’ He reached across to a table and removed a cloth from a silver tray full of goat butter, honey and choice cuts of cold meat neatly laid beside slices of bread. A jug of lemon water stood next to a cut glass goblet. She stared, not daring to touch the delicious food.
‘Help yourself. I must apologise for your treatment before you arrived last night. Think of this small meal as some recompense for your ordeal.’
Gingerly she took a piece of bread and spread it with butter and honey. Erich Gamlyn doesn’t match the tales, she thought as she poured herself a glass of lemon water.
She was on her second piece of sliced pork and third piece of bread when the man asked quietly.
‘Who was the man with you last night Cabryce?’
Her mouth was full of meat so she just shook her head.
‘I’ll ask again, who was the man with you last night?’
Swallowing quickly, she spluttered ‘I don’t know, he just turned up and I let him in.’
‘I know you would not dishonour your husband. You are not a fallen woman – try again.’
‘I don’t know who he was.’ Cabryce was suddenly aware of the gold sun the rebel had given her. It still sat like an incriminating weight in her skirts pocket. She thought quickly, and realised a plausible story may satisfy her inquisitor. ‘He asked to speak to my husband, said Malkrin had promised to hunt a fox that’s been killing his hens.’
Gamlyn rose suddenly from his seat and bent toward her over the desk. His hands slammed the top. ‘Enough, you expect me to believe such a feeble excuse?’
‘It’s the only one I have. I’ve never seen the man before.’ She was getting heated now and her fiery side that Malkrin dreaded seeped through. ‘You’ll have to ask Malkrin who the man was.’ She stood in spite of knowing it was the wrong thing to do. ‘Oh, I forgot, you exiled him, didn’t you.’ She felt like a defiant child before its teacher.
Gamlyn calmed and sat rigidly. ‘Sit down, you know more than you’re saying, and I will extract it from you. Or you’ll rot in the lowest, dampest, rat infested dungeon at the very bottom of my castle-home. A week in there and you’ll be ready to admit to anything.’ He glared and Cabryce glared back and said nothing.
‘Who was he?’
Cabryce stared out the window. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Come clean and you’ll be free to start your life afresh. You are a high-person with a registered highsense.’ He raised his eyebrows expecting the truth.
‘I know nothing. I’ve never set eyes on the man before.’
‘You are still a high person – for now. Tell me.’
Cabryce wondered whether ‘for now’ meant she could be discredited, and sent on her way from Cyprusnia. It would be her chance to follow Malkrin.