by Sharon Gibbs
‘Eric wasn’t born with the gift, as a Wizard is, but still I tried to teach him the art of healing but it wasn’t his passion. He went to school in the village. There he found a love of numbers and he went on to become a clerk and took care of the Keep’s money and accounts.’
Henry paused as he refilled his cup of tea and helped himself to another slice of cake. ‘Eric eventually married and he and his wife Sarah were happy to live near us on the common. Our two daughters Gabriella and Cynthia also attended school in the village, but they were still young and lived at home with us.’
Mary and Thomas were amazed at how little they’d known about Henry’s life. He’d kept his life close to his heart. But they’d noticed the small things that happened when Henry was near and to learn that Henry had been a healer was no great surprise to them both. Henry had always tended to Mary when she gave birth and looked after them all when they were sick.
‘When Eleanor became a grandmother she was over the moon. Eric and Sarah had two children. The first child was a girl. Her name was Kate, and Eleanor doted on her. She was a fine child, happy as a button and by the time Kate was two Eric and Sarah had been blessed with another child. A son they named Christopher.
‘While we loved both grandchildren the same, there was something different about Christopher. He’d been born with the gift, and from the first moment I saw him I could see it in his eyes. The Hierarch at the Keep even commented on it.
‘Deep down in the depths of his eyes, you’ll know him by the shimmer which lies there inside,’ he’d said. At that moment in time Henry hadn’t known what the Hierarch had meant. He did now, of course, as he’d read the prophecy all those years ago.
Henry continued on and told of life at the Keep and how he and Christopher would venture out together to collect the items they needed to restock the Keep’s supplies. Christopher had loved the adventures with his grandfather and was always interested in the new things his grandfather showed him. Henry taught him about life, nature and how for everything there was a time and a season. These things came naturally to Christopher as he’d been born with the gift. He was too young to begin any formal lessons, but at least he understood the world around him. Henry would take his horse and cart when he ventured out with Christopher and they’d usually be gone all day. If Christopher was tired he could climb into the cart, curl up in the furs and sleep. Sometimes they went overnight and then Kate and Eleanor would come along for the adventure.
Henry told Thomas and Mary how much he’d loved his family and life at the Keep. ‘Could I have some more tea please, Mary?’
She sensed Henry needed time to compose his thoughts and poured him another cup.
Henry sat in silence, while he sipped his tea. When he was ready he continued on with his story.
Henry recounted the day the invaders had come to the Keep. He’d taken Christopher out to look for herbs and roots to restock his supplies. They’d left early that morning as they needed to travel quite far to collect the roots of the Coneflower and Goldenseal. At first light Henry had wrapped Christopher in warm furs and settled him in the back of the wagon. Eleanor had packed them enough food to last for the day, and they’d left the common and headed west. The forests of Lefarh were three hours away and they’d stop along the way to pick the wild plants which grew along the side of the road. In the shade they’d find mushrooms and toadstools and Christopher had been amazed at the strange fungus that grew on trees and fallen logs and Henry had carefully selected what he’d needed.
Further on they’d travelled through a meadow and collected thistles and nettles. Christopher loved to help his grandfather collect these things and Henry would make Christopher name the plants they picked, to broaden his education of the flora and their uses. As they collected Mullen, Henry asked Christopher why they used this particular plant. Christopher could tell him the uses for it straight away.
‘For earaches and coughs,’ he’d said, and so these little chats would go on through the process of the day. If Christopher didn’t know or couldn’t remember Henry would tell him a story about the plant and how he used them to treat people. Henry was proud of Christopher. He’d a love for life that Henry hadn’t seen in another as Christopher was truly bound to all in nature.
When they’d arrived at the edge of the forest they’d stopped and ate their lunch before they’d pulled the Coneflower from the soil and Henry had replanted the seeds, as he only needed to take the roots. When they’d collected enough they’d ventured further into the forest to collect the yellow roots of the Goldenseal.
Time moved on and the sun had begun its descent. Christopher had curled up in the furs in the back of the cart and had slept as Henry had packed away the last of the plants they’d collected and then set off for home.
As they’d travelled through the woodlands, the sunset had covered the land in an orange hue and Henry had smelt smoke on the wind so he’d hurried to reach the edge of the woods. Henry had pulled the horse and cart to an abrupt halt when he’d seen the black smoke billow up into the sky from the common. He’d also seen a group of heavily armed soldiers dressed in battle armour, their metal helmets glowing orange in the sun’s late rays, riding towards the woods.
His senses had alerted him and Henry had retreated into the woodland.
Thoughts had flown through Henry’s mind. Was his family all right? Then he’d heard screams drift across the land upon the evening breeze.
There was danger ahead and his magic warned him to be careful. While he feared for his family he couldn’t rush home. He couldn’t risk being seen and he’d had to hide Christopher.
Henry had retraced the path they’d travelled and had cast a spell to cover their tracks. Not far back, they’d passed an old fallen tree where over the years, bushes and undergrowth had grown around its fallen limbs and turned it into a haven for animals that sought refuge.
Henry had pushed the bushes apart as Christopher had woken. ‘Quiet now, Christopher!’ Henry had said. The harshness in his voice had instilled fear into the boy as his grandfather manoeuvred the horse and cart into the fallen tree’s interior. He’d tied the mare’s reins to a strong branch and removed any trace they’d left.
Henry had then lifted Christopher from the cart and held him close to comfort the boy. The harshness of his voice had upset Christopher and he’d sobbed, unsure as to why his grandfather had scolded him.
‘Christopher, I need to return to the Keep. It’s not safe for you to come with me. I need you to be brave and wait here in the cart for me. Do you understand?’
‘No, Grandfather. Don’t leave me,’ Christopher had said as tears rolled down his cheeks.
‘Hush now, Christopher. Climb up into the cart and snuggle down in the furs. I’ll cast you a spell of sleep. You’ll be safe while I’m gone.’ Henry had then taken the amulet from around his neck. It was a flat silver disc with lines that intersected at the centre. He’d placed the amulet around Christopher’s neck and tucked him into the furs. Henry had told Christopher he’d put him to sleep and he’d be safe under the protection spell of the moon. If the boy awoke, he was to stay in the cart and be as quiet as a mouse until he returned.
Henry crooned and within seconds Christopher had fallen into a deep slumber. Then Henry had made sure Christopher was warm and he settled the mare before he left the sanctuary of the fallen tree.
In the earth around the perimeter of the tree, Henry had marked a trail and he’d cast another spell. This one would keep anyone away from the boy as he slept. If by chance anyone should venture near the tree, the spell he’d cast would conceal the boy, horse and cart as long as they stayed within the circle.
Henry had pushed back his cloak and cast upon himself the spell of the Unknowing. As his hands moved this way and that he’d chanted the words of the spell.
In their youth, Henry and his friend Clarence had used the spell many times to sneak out of the Keep. The only way they could be caught was if one of the Wizards were to notice somethin
g awry and cast a spell to reveal them. The spell didn’t make Henry invisible; he’d still be seen but the spell confused the mind of those who saw him and therefore rendered him an unknown entity.
Darkness covered the land and the moon had risen in the star-filled sky as Henry had run towards the common, passing several soldiers as they headed down towards the village. Smoke billowed from the houses and Henry had made his way towards Eric’s house. Soldiers had rampaged through the area dressed in their battle regalia, their swords and axes covered in blood. The people who lived in the common lay scattered on the ground. Slaughtered, their life’s blood drenched the soil where they’d fallen. As Henry had searched frantically for his family he’d come across the body of a woman who cradled a small child. He’d bent over and touched the woman. It was Marie, one of the women who worked in the kitchens at the Keep. But it had been too late for her; she and the child she held in her arms were already dead. Henry had continued to search the bodies nearby and panic had risen in him when he hadn’t found Eric, Sarah or Kate. As Henry had neared Eric’s house, the heat had driven him back. The flames roared as the thatched roof and wooden structure burned and Henry had prayed they were still alive somewhere as he’d headed for the road that led up the mountain to the Keep.
Henry had struggled to run up the steep road and slowed his pace as he passed through the gates on to the plateau. As Henry had walked past the soldiers in the garden, they’d taken no notice of him and he’d continued on to the Keep’s entrance. Bodies lay crumpled at the bottom of the stairs that lead to the front portal. He knew their faces as they were the young men and boys who lived and studied there, the same ones he’d seen every day.
The Hierarch’s body also lay at the base of the stairs. His throat had been slashed open and Henry had been horrified at his friend’s fate as he’d made his way past him up the stairs and through the entrance. Henry had then crossed the lobby to gain access to the staircase near the great hall. He’d flown up the stairs and had hoped that Eleanor and his family were safely hidden inside his quarters. As he reached the landing his heart had skipped a beat. Flowers littered the floor, trampled and scattered where they’d fallen, while jagged pieces of glass from the vases lay on the flagstones and waited to impale the unwary. Blood had been smeared along the walls in the hall as the people upstairs had tried to flee. Henry crossed the landing and headed for his quarters.
The body of a soldier lay in the hall and as Henry had approached he’d noticed the man’s arm had been severed. His front door hung on one hinge and as he’d entered his home he found the arm lying just inside the entrance. Debris scattered the front room and to one side near the broken furniture, his son Eric lay in a pool of blood. His face was bruised and bloodied and a mortal wound gaped in his side. His innards had spilled through the gash and his life’s blood had seeped onto the floor.
What chance did he have? Henry had thought. He tended the accounts at the Keep. He wasn’t a fighter.
Henry had checked Eric for any sign of life, no matter how small. There could’ve still been a chance to heal him. But it wasn’t to be. Eric had already passed into the Other World, the world of peace and tranquillity, and tears had welled in Henry’s eyes as he’d risen from his son’s body. Henry couldn’t see the rest of his family in the room.
His vision blurred and he’d moved to the door where he and his wife had slept and Henry’s heart had skipped a beat as he’d been met with the grizzly scene. His wife Eleanor lay on the floor with her own dagger embedded in her breast. It had been a gift for their wedding ritual and she’d cherished it always. Henry had knelt beside Eleanor and cradled her in his arms as tears had streamed down his face. He’d crooned to her and had kissed her tenderly before he lay her back down. On the bed he’d found the rest of his family, his two daughters, Cynthia and Gabriella, with Eric’s wife and his granddaughter Kate still cradled in her mother’s arms. Henry’s heart had hardened. There was nothing he could’ve done for his family except take them to the crypts which lay deep beneath the Keep.
Henry then told Thomas and Mary how he’d had to cast a spell over each member of his family so he could carry each in turn down the back passages of the Keep and lay them to rest. Not in the traditional way they’d deserved, but at least their bodies would be safe. Henry had removed Eric’s necklace and placed it in his pocket. When all his family lay together, he’d kissed each one in turn and said his farewell and then he’d closed the door on the crypt.
Henry had had no time to mourn. He’d been away from Christopher far too long and the moon had passed its apex in the sky. He’d hurried back to the fallen tree in case Christopher had woken. As fast as he could, he’d run, but his brain had been numb and his body had felt heavy. When Henry had left the grounds of the Keep, the number of soldiers in the common had dwindled but he had seen smoke rise from the direction of the village. Shouts had rung out as the smoke thickened and fire engulfed everything it touched, but there was nothing Henry could’ve done to help the people of Canistar as he’d had to get back to Christopher.
Henry had reached the fallen tree and as he’d made his way into its secluded interior he’d found Christopher still asleep in the furs just as he’d left him. He’d untied the horse and taken one of the furs from the cart. He’d cut the fur into pieces and placed each one under the mare’s hooves and as he’d secured them in place he’d hoped this would dampen any noise and leave no distinguishing prints as they fled. The wheels on the cart had been another problem, one that he couldn’t avoid. He’d used magic to cover their tracks until they were far enough away not to be seen.
They left the safety of the tree and had travelled through the woodlands away from the village. Henry’s mind had been a muddle as he’d thought about where to go. He needed to find a safe harbour for Christopher and himself and that’s when he’d thought about his friend Clarence. With his mind set to the task he’d turned the horse and cart in the direction of Canameer.
Mary and Thomas couldn’t believe how much grief Henry had kept hidden all these years and Mary reached out to touch Henry’s arm. ‘So what did you do when you arrived in Canameer?’ Henry patted her hand to reassure her he was all right.
‘Well, when we arrived in Canameer, most of the town was deserted. Obviously word had arrived before we did of the invasion back in Canistar.’ Henry rubbed his brow before he continued on. ‘We went to the residence of the Chancellor, where Clarence lived.’
He explained to them how ten years prior to the invasion, the Chancellor had requested, from the Keep, another to replace his current Advisor. At that time Brother Oliver had been ensconced in the town and had lived and worked for the Chancellors of Canameer for most of his life. He’d been ready to retire and wished to return to the Keep. Brother Clarence, to his great surprise, had been chosen to replace Oliver and over the years Henry and his family had visited Clarence many times. They’d stay with him and spend time in the town and always took back to the Keep items which weren’t readily available in their village.
Henry had pulled his horse and cart to a halt in front of the gates of the Chancellor’s manor.
The Chancellor lived in a large estate near the centre of the town. Many years ago large stone walls had been built around the estate to impress upon the people the Chancellor’s level of superiority. Now, within its walls, the people of the town had gathered to seek shelter and protection against the unknown enemy that pillaged the land. The town’s garrison had been posted around the grounds to provide protection for those who sheltered within the safety of the estate’s walls. Henry had been met with hostility as he’d arrived.
‘State your business,’ the guard had said.
‘I’ve come to see the Advisor to the Chancellor.’
‘He isn’t here. He left late last night and hasn’t been seen since. Do you seek refuge within our walls?’
‘No, we must be on our way,’ Henry said and then he’d turned his horse and cart around and headed off towards the Cave
s of Choice. Henry had known Clarence would be in the caves. It was his refuge when he needed to get away from life, when his work overwhelmed him. Clarence would spend a few days at the caves to regenerate himself and enjoy the quiet surroundings. This peace and quiet enabled him to cleanse his mind, and when he was rested he was able to return to the manor refreshed and ready to tackle his workload once again.
To get to the Caves of Choice they’d travelled through the wooded land to the west of Canameer. Henry had pushed at the fastest pace his horse could cope with and had only stopped to give Christopher food and water.
The woodland backed on to a range of mountains and slowly Henry had headed up the steep slopes. He’d remembered the way from the many times he’d visited with Clarence. When he’d arrived at the place where he thought the entrance to the caves was located he’d searched around but couldn’t find the opening. Henry had been sure this was the right place and he’d searched again and still found nothing.
Christopher had become restless in the cart and so Henry had set him on the ground and allowed him to stretch his legs.
‘When will we go home, grandfather?’
‘Christopher, listen to me,’ Henry said. ‘We can’t go home right now. It’s not safe.’
Christopher had begun to cry and Henry had held him tight and whispered in his ear that he’d take care of him and everything would be all right. They’d foraged around for berries to eat. They’d had enough water to last them for the day and Henry hadn’t been worried, but they still had to locate the entrance to the cave.
Christopher had sat on a small rock and eaten the berries they’d found. His small chubby fingers squashed them before he popped them in his mouth.
Henry had reached into his pocket and pulled out a pouch. Nestled inside was a small amulet with a loop attached at the widest part of the stone. He’d untied his neck leather and took great care as he’d slid his Wizard’s Talisman off the fine strip and placed it in the pouch where the amulet had been. He’d then slipped the leather strip through the loop on the amulet and retied it. He hadn’t place the leather around his neck, but held it out in front of him as he’d whispered an incantation over and over again. Henry had cast a Calling spell to let Clarence know they’d arrived.