by Clive Ousley
‘Sire Praled, I have a small confession to make.’ He looked up to the old man’s face seeing sympathy written there. Praled had guessed.
‘I would gladly teach you the written word my friends. But it will take time and patience. It will not be learnt in a day.’
Under Praled’s teaching the letters grew into words. The words grew into sentences and then into pages. These then expanded into whole accounts forming a whole book. The books were categorised into a multitude of specialities. And so the summer passed in scholarly learning and increasing knowledge on many subjects. Using the library daily they discovered an ancient, frightening, but absorbing world. All three grew in stature and wisdom, Malkrin and Halle lost their leanness and Seara blossomed into womanhood.
And then during a late summer drizzle a band of Wolf tribesmen came to the Bridge of Light. In a cart they hauled a trussed and hissing creature from the depths of Jadde’s world – and Malkrin’s life changed yet again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The darkness concealed a nameless creature. Cabryce backed along a damp wall and edged into a corner. Giggling, wheezing breath followed, and then the stench closed in on her. Cabryce heard the gurgle of weak lungs which rose and fell in heaves.
A wavering yellow light came from the gaps around the door surround but failed to illuminate the creature. Cabryce’s eyes flashed to a slot high in the opposite wall which added spattered grey light, together with the sound of rushing water. Wisps of misty spray filtered from the slot leaving a glistening sheen to the wall. Slowly her eyes acclimatised to the black pit. She made out movement that shifted to a black corner.
Her eyes acclimatised further as the shape moved in endless circles, a being maddened by solitude and darkness. It had waist length silver hair, red haunted eyes and licked its lips in the manner all toothless people do. Then it smiled at Cabryce, perhaps recognising a fellow woman. An inane grin creased the pale face. It seemed to accept that Cabryce was no threat and moved under the misty splashes from the high up slot and caught drips on its tongue, then giggled in triumph. The woman, for Cabryce was increasingly sure it was a woman, darted sideways to catch the next drip. The rags it wore hung limply and water from the slot soaked her clothing. But the woman was not perturbed, she shook herself, sending water everywhere like a shaking dog.
‘Who are you?’ Cabryce whispered. The woman carried on licking at the dripping water with toothless slavering.
‘Who are you?’ Cabryce repeated louder to drown out the sound of rushing water. The woman spun round looking everywhere for the sound of the voice. Cabryce realised she was an elderly woman of immeasurable years. And she was blind.
The creature turned and faced the wall.
‘Who?’ She rasped in a voice unused to speaking.
‘My dear, there are only two of us in here, and I asked the question.’
‘I am Bettry. Why are you here?’
‘I have wronged the Brenna, or so they say. So they’re softening me up. How long have you been here?’
‘Longer than long. Unknown . . . unknown time, longer than it takes the waterfall beyond to dry then flood, then dry then flood, then dry . . .’
‘You mean many summers, were you young when imprisoned?’
‘My first-born was two winters old and my husband was Leader of the Keep guards.’
‘What did you do to offend the Brenna Bettry?’
‘My dearest Arould was thrown from the tower battlement and I was furious and I clenched my fists and caused the soldiers to smash against the wall. I shouted in grief and the windows blew in their faces with a sound like creeeekkkksh. Then I made the walls of the tower fall.’
The crone ran around the cell emitting an inhuman screech and the walls vibrated. Cabryce grabbed her arm on the third circuit.
‘Calm Bettry, calm. It’s all right I’m here to help.’
Bettry keened, and grasped Cabryce around her waist, then shuddered and whispered as if a child again. ‘It’s been so long . . . so long,’ she burst into sobs and grasped Cabryce tightly.
‘. . . so long.’
Cabryce tried to understand the old woman’s ravings whilst stroking her hair. Bettry had smashed the tower and thrown the Brenna guards against the Keep. She had had a powerful talent.
‘How do they feed you Bettry?’
‘The door the gap the slot the tray the tray the gruel . . . ’
‘Let’s just sit for a while. Don’t worry I’m not going to hurt you.’
Cabryce held her close and the pain in her cheek returned. She tasted blood from her mouth where a tooth had split her cheek.
Somehow she had to get out of here. She thought of bribing the guards with the golden sun in her pocket and put her hand on the warm metal. It seemed to offer reassurance, then projected a determination in her to escape. Cabryce longed to join Malkrin beyond Cyprusnia. She could not barter it and had nothing else to bargain with, only herself and she was for her husband only. She looked around the dark grey cell. The walls were of thick granite blocks – impossible to remove. The floor felt like crete; too hard to dig into even if she had tools.
She sat and led Bettry to sit beside her. The old lady whimpered contentedly in her lap and muttered incomprehensible words. By concentrating and filtering the gibberish Cabryce made out Bettry was telling how she had arrived in the cell.
‘I had a big gift that only occurred when I was deeply wronged. Horrible people, Brenna horrible, horrible. They killed my husband and threw him from the tower, and I angered and angered then I flew out of our rooms and saw his body lying crumpled. Horrible people, horrible people. I screamed and wailed. Then the tower broke and they died. I squashed a few more, then they feared me. I was mad and they put me here and they left me. Horrible Brenna, horrible people.’
Cabryce listened intently. The death of Bettry’s husband had tipped her into a haunted inner realm. The cruel Goddess had deserted her in her time of need. Cabryce was deeply saddened by the cruelty of Jadde. She sat stroking poor Bettry’s hair and consoled her.
‘Take me away from here, Mother,’ Bettry whimpered.
Cabryce could think of no reply, so just cuddled the frail woman.
They both sat breathing the mould ridden air. Cabryce’s clothes began to get damp then wet. She thought of the water beyond the wall. It must be the great river Kryway channelling through the rocks before falling to the valleys and the Fethwerth Pool beneath. She looked up to the light slot. It was far too narrow to squeeze through, even if she could clamber up to it.
She thought of the endless lifetime this poor woman had spent here, and how cruelly the Brenna had treated a grieving woman of their own kind. Anger surged in her and she fell into a disturbed sleep thinking of, and discarding many fantastic plans of escape.
A scraping sound awoke her and two wooden trays with bowls full of slop were thrust under the door. Four lumps of stale bread and lukewarm acorn tea were also on the tray.
Bettry suddenly come alive and crawled frantically to the muck and started to noisily consume it. She finished her own, and then Cabryce’s as well. Cabryce didn’t have the heart to intervene; the poor woman needed the nutrition. It would help rebuild her strength and sanity.
Sometime later a key rattled in the lock and a bulky shape was silhouetted against the light from the corridor.
‘Have you repented yet woman?’
It was her assailant Janna. Cabryce kept quiet, hardly daring to move. A boot lashed out and connected to her thigh. She gritted her teeth to stifle a groan.
Later he finished, and panted, ‘another day and you’ll gabble fit to burst.’ His face erupted into a cruel snigger and he strode out, slamming the door.
Another meal grated its way under the door, this time Cabryce was ready and got there first. She handed Bettry hers, then sampled the gruel. It was edible; just. She managed not to retch and ate the dry bread and washed it down with the acorn tea. Her mouth stung and that reminded her of the new throb in her legs
. Many more days of this and she thought she’d agree to anything the Brenna demanded. There was a toilet bucket in the corner and she relieved herself then vomited the food into the container. Cabryce crawled back to the driest corner and shared her body-heat with Bettry.
Three meals later and her jailers returned. The keys rattled and arms hauled her upright and dragged her away. Bettry screeched, fearing her new mother had deserted her.
Back in the tower they dumped her in a room containing just an old chair and a grimy wall mirror. She wiped it and peered at the image that stared back. Her hair had become tangled and face smeared with blood. She suspected the mirror had been placed there on purpose so she could admire her bruises and dishevelled appearance. Obviously they did not want the lavish furnishings of Gamlyn’s study soiled. She longed for her old secure life. From the bottom of her heart she wished Malkrin had not been exiled; he would have fought to rescue her. Miserably she sat on the rickety chair and waited in the cold room.
Erich Gamlyn came in so softly she jumped out of a doze. He stood with a hand on the open door, and then leant on it in a show of relaxation.
‘How do you like sharing a cell with a murdering old hag?’
‘Bettry a murderer – no way.’
‘She killed my brother, threw him from the guard tower.’
‘Then he was the one who killed her husband – jealousy was it?’
Gamlyn’s face contorted and he lifted a clenched fist.
Cabryce braced herself for the blow, but held his eyes refusing to cry, scream or cower before him.
He hesitated, then relaxed and began pacing the room.
‘Well Cabryce, let’s just recap. I sent our guards to your home to ask you to attend me so we could work out who would be your future husband. We had one of the Brenna in mind; he is young and has the beginnings of a highsense. You would have been well off and comfortable. But instead we find you consorting with a fugitive. Are you ready to tell us why?’
‘Give me something decent to eat and I’ll explain.’
‘Good, I was going to offer you food anyway. You can also tell me who the other strangers are that keep appearing amongst us, then hiding before we can arrest them? Perhaps you’ve been harbouring them too.’
He clapped his hands and moments later two servants entered. One carried a small table; the other was laden with a tray of fruit, fresh bread, fish and apple juice.
She ate slowly, thinking hard about her options – that was if she had any left. She doubted there was any young Brenna with highsense, and she doubted the stranger had been a fugitive. Obviously her visitor had other companions that were avoiding the Brenna. She hoped they could find a way of getting her away from Gamlyn and his henchmen. She carried on chewing thoughtfully, outwardly calm but with her mind racing.
Suddenly a realisation hit her, and she nearly choked on a mouthful of fish. The stranger’s friends had no idea she was held captive. They would assume she had followed after Malkrin. She desperately needed to escape – and it was down to her alone.
She finished the fish and gulped some apple juice.
There was something she may be able to do, but it was a faint hope – it involved keeping quiet for now and planning.
‘It’s a decent meal. I see you are famished . . . are you enjoying it?’
Cabryce started. Gamlyn was still by the door, she had been thinking so furiously she had blanked his presence.
Cabryce ate quickly and glanced occasionally at him, then at the wall.
‘At least tell me his name?’ he implored with a semblance of civility.
She carried on chewing. Shortly Gamlyn tired of the wait. He kicked out, sweeping the food from the table with a crash. He left the room looking red faced and wild eyed.
She grabbed an apple from the floor; but hadn’t finished it before Gamlyn’s malevolent underling entered. She suddenly lost her appetite and forced the last mouthful down.
He started by kicking the apple core from her hands.
Later she was dragged to her cell. A cut above her tear filled eyes had left her head spinning. Her left arm and wrist ached from being twisted, and the pain spread to the rest of her bruised body. She had to formulate a plan or very soon she would be in no condition to see it through.
The next day they came for her again and she had another set of bruises before they threw her back into the pit. The day after, they repeated the treatment. She refused to even speak with Gamlyn or acknowledge Janna and his beatings.
The usual trays arrived under the door. She gave some of her meals to Bettry – and waited.
And waited.
There was no way of keeping track of time, trays slid under the door and she pushed the empty trays back through. Occasionally a guard took the full toilet bucket and replaced it with an empty one. She slept when the dim grey light diminished to night and when awake spoke reassuringly to Bettry. Time passed in a monotonous routine, and she felt more miserable and dishevelled. But no one summoned her to further beatings. Any plans she had hatched faded with her energy and she lolled in a mess of self pity. She tried to scratch on the cell wall to signify days. Two meals for one scratch, she hoped that was a day. Then she put a bar through six scratches to indicate a week. Bettry stroked her and she smoothed Bettry’s hair. Her world diminished to four damp walls and the roar of the falls.
Absently she thought, even Gamlyn’s forgotten me. I am merely another Bettry. She estimated twelve weeks must have elapsed and jerked fully awake with sudden determination. Even her jailers had forgotten her. She was going to turn into Bettry, and the next person to be thrown in here would find two gibbering wrecks. The thought filled her with fury. How dare they.
Cabryce suddenly remembered the moment when she had just arrived in this dark pit. The cell walls had vibrated when Bettry had screeched in frustration and madness. She had to get out, and to do so would involve Bettry. A desperate plan germinated.
The next meal tray slithered under the door and anonymous feet stomped off. She grabbed the tray and gave her share to Bettry after extracting a bargain in return.
They sat in the cells driest corner and Cabryce cuddled Bettry to her as she quietly whispered instructions.
‘You mentioned about your anger, and how you fought back against the Brenna so bravely. I really admire you for doing that. Do you think you could summon that anger again?’
‘For you Mother . . . yes, for you.’
Would you like to escape from here Bettry?’
‘Yes. I’ve been dreaming of staring to the mountains and up the great Shimmerrath falls again, then playing amongst the trees with my friends. Yes please Mother, can we go now . . . please?’
‘Very, very soon Bettry. Now listen carefully. You have the energy from the extra food. Do you feel up to a practice now?’
‘Yes Mother, what shall I do?’
‘Summon that feeling of anger. With the intensity you felt when you saw your poor husband crumpled and the Brenna rushing over to grab you.’
In the gloom Cabryce saw Bettry’s face assume a mask of throbbing anger.
‘Expand it Bettry, now.’
The old woman started perspiring and her gnarled fists clenched.
‘Look at the wall Bettry, under the misty slot. Focus on the wall.’
Bettry shook and perspiration trickled down her cheeks.
‘Now my dear – release it,’ Cabryce hissed.
A loud crunch drowned the sound of water; the wall wobbled and seemed to shimmer. Dark spidery cracks appeared. Another creak and larger gaps appeared. Water started to hiss into the cell through the lower part of the widest crack. The vibrating and grating faded and the cracks closed up.
‘Relax for a moment Bettry.’
Cabryce listened and forced herself to calm her thumping heart. No guards had been alerted, so she walked to the wall and pushed then thumped with all her strength. Her legs were instantly soaked. The wall remained solid and her wrist throbbed. The water was icy and she st
arted to shiver.
She sat next to Bettry and put her arm around her shoulders again.
‘That was nearly enough Bettry, you almost did it. Now think of the waterfall and the mountains, think of freedom and your friends, think of the revenge we’re going to wreak on the Brenna.’
Cabryce gently removed a lock of Bettry’s hair from her cheek, and then looked into her wild eyes. ‘When I say push, you shove with all your anger. Summon everything you can muster against the cruelty of separating you from your husband and child. Think hard about our captors and their nastiness, their lack of concern for your grief and how they’ve kept you here all this time against your will.’
Bettry was shaking now. Her eyes bulged, and her face glowed like the searing centre of a log fire. Heat radiated from her frail body, she started wheezing and panting.
‘Now Bettry, now.’
A high pitched crunch sounded, and then a deep grating roar filled the cell with an earthquake of sound. The cracks reappeared and grew wider. More water hissed into the cell. The walls shook and small fragments of blocks fell into the water swirling across the floor. Larger fragments splashed into the foaming flood. They were waist deep now. Cabryce glanced at Bettry’s face, it was livid red as if her heart was about to burst. Cabryce gripped her tightly and shouted above the hissing water.
‘Push Bettry, push hard, hard.’
The blocks of the wall exploded outward and disappeared into the raging torrent that swept into the cell.
‘We’re free Bettry. Breathe deeply my dear – then when I say, hold it in.’
Cabryce held the old woman firmly round the waist with one arm and grabbed the jagged opening with the other. She hauled Bettry onto the broken wall above the torrent. Then looked beyond to where the deluge disappeared in a surging never ending wave down into the dark depths.