by Lee M Eason
“There’s nothing more you can add about Naicarn?” Durnin asked Kellim finally.
“Indeed nothing. His mind and his lips gave away little. It was evident he’d improved his talent considerably. I can only assume he’s found some way of augmenting his access to the field. Though at what cost to his well-being I can only guess.”
“Why subject himself to that kind of torment?” Durnin puzzled. “What does he hope to achieve with this extra power?”
Ressca, the head of The Clave of Makers spoke. “Just that. Power! From what has been suggested in this meeting. It would follow that if powerful enough he could apply persuasion and bring the Amar Order in line with his views. Certainly The Corumn during Naicarn’s time were old and open to manipulation by a strong mind.”
“We’ve always heard rumours,” Ren, the head of The Clave of Speakers continued. “Naicarn wanted The Amar Order to return to its position of authority in the region. A role the Order has tried to distance itself from - mistakes of the past and all that.”
“Absolutely,” Ressca said. “We know he wasn’t happy about the direction Essedra was set on. But is he aware of the sweeping changes made to the Corumn? Mia Sara’s appointment for instance?” Kara let out a snort of derision at the sound of the woman’s name, which Ressca ignored. “Things have moved on at considerable pace since Gattick’s appointment. No more doddering Adepts easily manipulate by an augmented will.
Durnin was inclined to agree. “Our intelligence tells us The Order at Amar has long been plagued with in house politics and power struggles. The Old Corumn would have been open to a rise in their authority over the crown and the surrounding countries. The current one would not.”
“Perhaps, given enough time to develop his abilities,” Ren suggested. “It could be possible for him to force the new Corumn to agree to his views.”
“It’s possible,” Ressca agreed, “but then he is old school. Would his loyalty to the Order make such action unacceptable in his mind?”
“The Amar Order not the Corumn,” Ren corrected, Ressca conceded the point.
“You said it looked like he’d been at Aurt for some time?” Kara asked.
“Possibly two years, even longer. Aurt seemed much restored,” Kellim recalled. “He clearly wanted to work unobserved and I suspect is unaware of the changes made to The Corumn. His isolation seemed complete.”
“That’s a long time,” Kara warned. “He could accomplish a lot in two years.”
“Then we may need to warn the Corumn,” Durnin interjected.
“Indeed,” Kellim nodded.
Ursa, the head of The Clave of Summoners cleared her throat impatiently to gain attention. “Amar should be left to itself, if you ask me. They are not to be trusted as enemy or ally. Should we not be more concerned by Segat? Amaria is a long way from here. Ildra is only two borders away!”
“I assume you mean the current unrest?” Ressca noted the tetchy nature of Ursa’s words. “The Hallorn Crown is certainly concerned. When Perin heard I was in the city…”
“You really should be more respectful,” Gwen scolded her lightly.
“Nonsense I’ve known the man all my life,” she dismissed. “I was returning here via Oren and was commanded to attend, pass on what information I had and ordered to bring Perin’s concerns to Durnin.”
“You move in such high circles Ressca,” Kara teased. “Did you wear a hat?”
“What makes you think I didn’t,” she retorted archly. “Really Durnin, you must keep these children in line.” Durnin smiled benignly, offering up his hands. “He believes, if I might be allowed to finish, the independence of Selarsh is in jeopardy. Yes, I thought that might rattle you all a little. Hon and Cian are very edgy and have been moving troops for some time. Perin’s sending out envoys left right and centre to Cian, Hon, Selarsh, Sancir even Urukish. He’s as worried and alarmed as they are by what’s going on in Ildra. His spies are everywhere, sniffing out any bit of information they can.”
“There you have it,” Ursa asserted. “Our problem is more immediate than this second guessing of Naicarn’s actions. It is clear to me at least, that our attention needs to be directed to Ildra.”
Carrick leaned forward from where he had been listening. “Aren’t we talking about the same issue here? Naicarn and Segat. They aren’t two isolated problems, just two parts of something more complex.” Ursa jerked her hand dismissively. “What better way to make Amar react than to threaten her borders by stirring up old feuds. Naicarn uses his ‘new powers’ to manipulate Segat making it, in turn, easier to manipulate a defensive and threatened Corumn. For all we know The Corumn, new or not, could be sat right in his hand.” There were calls of agreement from several of the heads. “I don’t know about the rest of you but I want to know exactly what’s going on in Amar?”
“And that should be our next move,” Durnin said decisively. “We’ll pay them a visit. Relations with them are greatly improved. I’ll send word. Whether they accept, or not, may be telling in itself. It’ll certainly test this new policy of openness. They’ve talked about hosting a meeting of The Orders. Now would seem like a good time to do it.”
Ursa wasn’t happy with this decision. “That’s all very nice but I am still uneasy about the threat of invasion. We can’t ignore it, whether it’s linked to Naicarn or not,” she looked tartly at Carrick. “We all know Segat is UruIldran and is a direct descendant of The Urukish throne. The feud with Amar’s royals has never been settled and Segat has made no secret of his desires for an Ildran coastline.”
“Oh, tosh,” Ressca mumbled.
Ursa wouldn’t be dismissed. “I would be more than happy to see Amar made to answer fully for its arrogance but not at the cost of Hallorn’s borders.”
“Don’t you mean past arrogance, Ursa,” Ressca corrected, her tone patronising. “Be careful you don’t dwell too much on the past my dear.”
Durnin sat up in his chair. It was time to move things on. He held up his hand to block Ursa’s retort. “We will gather as much information as we can about both sides of this puzzle.” He looked round the table expectantly. “Good. I will set wheels in motion and task some of you with this undertaking. Ressca has brought word from Oren and I will head there to meet with the king. I leave for the capital tomorrow and will pass on what we know. Hopefully I’ll bring back answers to some of our questions.” Durnin set his hands on the table. “Is there anything else before I close this meeting?”
“In that case,” Kellim began, “there is indeed something else. My apologies Durnin I wasn’t aware of your summons from the king. I’ve held onto this information in the hope of learning more. Clearly I must tell you what I know before you leave.” Kellim considered his words before continuing, unintentionally creating a certain amount of suspense. “It would appear The Panids’ Children are abroad in the world again.”
His announcement clearly shocked the gathering and he was asked several questions at the same time before Durnin could calm everyone.
“And I thought I’d created a stir,” Ressca said dryly when the room had become quiet.
“Tell us what you know my friend,” Durnin said.
Kellim proceeded to tell the gathered Adepts of his contact with The Faithful, of the attack by The Three and the possible link to Jenna. “That’s all I know.”
Estian, The Head of the Conveyers was taken aback. “With all respect Kellim. You were actually going to hold this back from us!” He looked at Carrick and Gwen with equal concern. “You were attacked. It could happen again to anyone here, or worse one of our Talents. Did it not occur to you to warn us?”
Kellim held up his hands. “The Three were after Jenna. The Faithful itself considered her to be of some importance to The Children. They had no interest in us whatsoever. Until The Faithful finds me we can only speculate as to why.”
“Does Jenna know about any of this?” Kara asked, peeved none of them had told her either.
“No,” Gwen answered. “There�
�s no point in worrying her. The experience with The Three was frightening enough. She seems to have bounced back from it and we’re unwilling to put more pressure on her and her brother. They’ve been through enough.” Gwen was a little more contrite. “Perhaps we should have told you but as Kellim said, the interest was not in us.”
“I suppose you had your reasons,” Estian accepted. “I’m simply worried we’ve become soft in the years of peace since The Great War. We’re heading into unsettled times and I fear we’re going to be tested further. If we are, shared knowledge will help us all. Is there anything else we should know?” He looked at Kellim who shook his head.
“Then,” Ressca said, “let us hope we can make ourselves ready for whatever comes our way and that Jenna is resilient. You must keep a close eye on her. The young have a habit of bouncing back right up until the moment they snap. I agree with you Estian.” She folded her arms and rested them on the table. “We are none of us, apart from Kellim, used to war let alone a continent full of monsters. And yes Ursa we must keep an eye on Segat.”
“Their like hasn’t been seen for a long time,” Durnin said pulling on his dark, scruffy beard. “Kellim, I believe you and Kara are the only ones amongst us to have seen them or actually met them. I certainly haven’t in all my fifty years. Should we be worried?”
Kara shrugged. “Don’t think you could call mine a meeting. It was a bit one sided. It was dead and I studied its form field.”
Ressca tutted and rolled her eyes. The others had turned expectantly to Kellim.
He spoke, as always, with reluctance. “They have become the stuff of story books. Bedtime tales told to make small children behave themselves. The Three are relatively minor creations from the early part of the war. I assume they have survived this long by remaining hidden. They attacked when we had Jenna with us and were isolated. The odds of that happening again are remote. But now I can’t be sure how many of them are still alive,” This seemed to irritate him considerably. “We thought them all accounted for. But whatever the number, it cannot be large. While Jenna remains here she is among a great number of Talents. Those remaining of The Three would be unwise to attempt another attack and are too brutish to use guile to reach her by another method. To worry would achieve nothing. To be watchful and guarded would be wise.”
“Let’s hope you’re right,” Estian said not entirely convinced.
Ursa cleared her throat again. “It concerns me Kellim that you failed to report this. Can I remind you that we are equals around this table and not subject to the remaining Panid’s censorship. Knowledge of this nature is extremely valuable to my Clave and could be put to good use.”
“My intent was not to censor information,” he began, an edge to his voice seldom used and all the sharper for it. “Their focus is Jenna, they have no interest in you or the rest of us,” he continued as Ursa bristled. “And further to this you’d be wise to have no interest in information regarding The Children as indeed you have no need of The Panids’ Children.”
Ursa had gone red. Again she went to speak.
“You don’t trust us,” the new voice was almost apologetic. All heads turned to find who was speaking. Esselle the quiet head of The Clave of Healers had a habit of saying little but often having the most impact. “We must seem like children to you dabbling with the field. Fumbling awkwardly on its lesser currents when you have soared.”
Kellim smiled at the quote. “Attrius,” he identified its originator. “A wise man but a little nostalgic when it comes to a past he didn’t experience first-hand.” Kellim looked at Ursa, she returned his gaze angrily. The room was uncomfortably silent. “I’m in no position to judge anyone talented or not and make no mistake the Panids were not without fault. But The Children were the stuff of nightmares, a fire that laid waste to the nations of the south. You can’t imagine the sheer terror one felt in the presence of an Elemental, even those of one’s own creation, Ursa. Their power was immense and the field roared unchecked through their being. To attempt to rekindle that spark would be an invitation to slaughter.”
Nobody spoke. A chill had struck the room. Kellim’s eyes were haunted, hinting at the visions he had witnessed, the true terror of The Great War’s final years.
Durnin tapped the table. “We shall conclude our meeting there.”
One by one the others left, leaving Kellim sat alone. He was only too aware that at one time or another all of the Adepts in that room had longed to live in the times when the field was unrestrained. And spoke of how they would have done things differently. He got up stiffly. Had they learnt from The Panids mistakes? He doubted it.
***
Segat sat forward on his golden throne and absently rubbed the end of the arm. He found it reassuring that no matter how often he did this it would never wear. He noticed his stomach, pressed slightly against the belt of his uniform and straightened allowing the gold braded material and polished buttons to fall back into place. Segat liked his uniform, he had never served in the army but he felt it lent an air of greater authority in the presence of his generals and those currently in favour from The Ildran Order. He fiddled absently with his earring, his thoughts drifting a little longer before he became aware that General Imed had finished talking and VaCalt now spoke, and apparently had been for some time.
“…I strongly urged Most High that The Panid be kept alive. He may prove to be of yet more use. He h…”
Segat waved his hand dismissively making the strange tutting sound the court understood as, shut up. VaCalt bowed stiffly and stepped away from the throne. General Imed noticed with irritation she did not step back to join the others of her Order or the generals gathered in the audience chamber. She stood slightly apart, perceptibly closer to the throne.
“Useful to who VaCalt?” Segat asked meeting her gaze as she straightened.
“Why, to you Most High,” VaCalt bowed again.
Segat snorted. “The right answer VaCalt. But then you always have the right answer. Don’t you VaCalt?”
She merely lowered her head and kept her thoughts to herself. There was something in his tone, something in the way he kept saying her name. What did he suspect? Her eyes unwittingly glanced at The Imperial Guard.
“Yes, they are there, aren’t they VaCalt,” Segat referred to the two figures stood behind and a safe distance from him. Even in the Ildran heat they were swathed in material from head to foot, rendering them amorphous. Only their gloved hands showed. Intricate embroidery in gold thread concealed what twitched underneath.
“I rest soundly, Most High, knowing your safety is assured at all times by their presence,” her response only showed the faintest trace of tightness. She could unravel him like a cheap carpet. Melt him and the throne he sat on but instead she had to watch her every move, consider every response for fear this fool on a golden pedestal would decide, on a whim or change of mood, that he wanted her dead.
Segat turned, bored of the game. “And you Imalt?”
The Adept Summoner bowed deeply and stepped forward from the assembled Talents to stand in the privileged attention of His Highness. “Most High, your health and continued rule are always utmost in my thoughts and actions. I aspire…”
“I think, “Segat interrupted, his gaze falling on VaCalt. “I think you aspire to Potent, Imalt.”
Imalt bowed deeply again. “My only wish is to serve Most High.”
VaCalt kept her eyes fixed on the throne, at the discoloured gold caused by Segat’s interminable rubbing. He sullied everything he touched.
Segat tutted Imalt away, his answer not good enough. “Hmm, VaCalt I think you have won today.” Then he caught site of Ducat. “You would ensure my continued safety, wouldn’t you Ducat?” She bowed and stepped awkwardly forward. Segat was morbidly fascinated and disgusted by her in equal measure. What passed as thoughts in that unbalanced head he wondered? What amusement could be gained from provocation? “Speak up Ducat. Don’t be shy.”
Her answer was to bite her hand dra
wing blood she offered it up to Segat. “My blood is yours Most High.”
Segat looked at the dripping liquid, quite taken aback by the action and then tutted her away. His clever tongue had no taste for this. His mood spoilt he stood, doors opened and he swept out of the room, The Imperial Guard following, an extension of the cloak that swept behind him. Ducat returned to the assembled, flashing her eyes at VaCalt for some hint of acknowledgement. VaCalt looked on with distaste.
***
The weeks rolled on, autumn had arrived and the weather had remained especially mild for the time of year. Autumn and winter in northern Hallorn were short seasons and could be cold but rarely saw snow.
Jenna had watched the season approach and take hold of the gnarlwood trees on the green. Her room gave her the perfect vantage point to watch this and the comings and goings of the academy. She’d watched Durnin leave and return from his visit to the capital and she wondered what the city was like and how different it would be to Naddier. Bryn had left to visit his estates and see his sister, taking Jac with him. Kellim had left soon after and was gone for weeks returning in a sombre mood with news she only got to hear bits of when she pushed Gwen with questions during their lessons. She wondered too at the many visitors to the buildings, who they were, where had they come from. Some being greeted by staff, others by The Clave Heads, even Carrick and Gwen had entertained visitors and it seemed odd, somehow, to see them in such a different role.
A small part of her missed their final trip on the sky ship. The time they had all spent together had been special to her, despite the long journey before it and its tangle of events and experiences. It all seemed so distant now. Even their arrival at Naddier seemed such a long time ago.
She and Aaron saw Gwen and Carrick every day to work on their abilities. Aaron had also spent time with Kellim and was growing in confidence. Their abilities grew with each passing week. The routine was set and with it the days passed. Carrick insisted that they ate their evening meals together as often as possible. This usually worked out at several nights a week and was particularly enjoyable when they were all there.