Halfstone: A Tale of the Narathlands

by Daniel White

  9

  THE LONELY PROVINCE

  The morning was cold. Mist submerged the valley. The nearby vegetation was still and white; covered in fine crystals of frozen dew. At this elevation winter was already tightening its grip over the tender land.

  When Aldrick had woken, Télia was absent and her bed left neat. He had found her in the stable, accompanied by Sinin and Aru. The three of them were readying their horses in silence.

  “Good morning,” he said, greeting none of them in particular.

  “Hello, Al,” said Sinin dully. “Promise me something, will you? Never drink as much as I did last night.” He groaned and rubbed his forehead. “I feel like there is an axe lodged in my skull.”

  Aldrick laughed. “Very well—I promise, but only because I don’t think I could if I tried.”

  Télia shot Sinin a disapproving glance. “You’re a drunk, you know that don’t you? You need help.”

  Sinin frowned. “I am not a drunk. A drunk is someone who is always drunk. I am a drank. I drank last night and am paying the price today.”

  “Well it’s a fair price. Don’t whine about it.”

  “Did you say wine?”

  Télia shook her head and tried not to grin. “You’re a lost cause.”

  Aldrick found himself downcast by the way the two spoke to each other—as though they were overly familiar with one another. He wondered how close they had been in the past. Realising it was a foolish and immature thing to dwell on he tried to push it from his mind.

  “Aldrick, are you ready to ride?” Aru asked, ignoring them as they continued to squabble.

  “Not so much, no. I’ll head back inside and get my things.”

  “Yes, do that.”

  When he re-entered the house Jon was walking down the stairs clutching a sizable assortment of things in his arms. He wore his grand wielding robes once more.

  “Good morning Aldrick,” he said brightly. “I hope it has greeted you well.”

  “And you,” Aldrick replied. “Can I help you carry any of that?”

  “No, no, I am quite fine, thank you. Just let me put this down. I have something for you.” Jon rested his load by the door then took a small book from the top of the pile and handed it to Aldrick. “Here. This belongs to you. I have kept it for many years. It was your father’s arcane journal, something scholars of Delthendra are given to write an account of their experiences with the world of wielding. I found it within the ruins of this place. Your mother must have kept it with her after he passed.”

  Aldrick took the journal in surprise and wonder. It was leather bound. On the cover was a faded symbol that appeared as a globe with a number of curving lines originating from the centre and weaving around the edge, like crawling vines. Beneath this were his father’s initials, G A, inscribed in a bold font. He carefully opened the journal to a random page. It was singed at the edges and much of it had been browned and cracked by heat. In one place an entry of messy writing scribed with a fine quill was discernible, though exactly what it read was not.

  “Thank you for this, Jon,” Aldrick said, closing the journal equally as carefully.

  Jon smiled. “Not a problem, my boy. I had completely forgotten about it until now. I thought it might offer you some insight into your father’s life, and perhaps also some valuable teachings, that is, if you are able to read any of it.”

  “Hopefully. I will look through it when I can. I ought to pack now. I won’t be long.”

  “Very good. I’ll meet you by the stable. Take all the time you need and remember to close the door behind you. The others have no need to return.” Jon picked up his things and exited.

  Aldrick took very little time. Much of his gear had been untouched since the journey here. After fetching some fruit and bread he found left in the kitchen, he carried everything, including the weighty longsword Télia had bought him in Farguard, out to the stable. The others had already mounted their horses and trotted about in the frosty grass nearby.

  When Aldrick’s gear was all loaded on, he patted his loyal steed on the neck.

  “Looks like we’re off again, chum,” he said. Tame neighed heartily and flicked his head excitedly. Aldrick mounted and joined the others.

  “Are you ready?” asked Télia, bringing De’ama to a standstill at his side.

  He took a breath. “Yes.”

  “Well then, let us be off!” Jon prompted his chestnut mare forward with a firm pat on the neck and their quest was commenced.

  Aldrick’s heart pounded. This was it. It had been but a small step leaving his home and coming this far. Now, they were truly venturing into the unknown. There would be no more safe havens to stop at. No more familiar faces to greet along the way. He wished to see his family one last time and say goodbye, but it was far too late for that. Perhaps if they came upon a village he could send them a letter by wing—tell them why he was doing this, tell them not to worry and bid them farewell in the most fitting way he was able with a quill. If not, he could only hope that there would be a return journey.

  Jon led them through the clearing, whereupon they met the mountain path and followed it northward. The land soon began to slope gently and the trees closed in around them. Though the mist thinned beneath their branches, the way darkened. Until it fully lifted from the valley basin the morning light would not reach them.

  While they traversed the cold and the shade, Aldrick found comfort in knowing Télia was near. There were moments when he was certain he smelt the faint summery aroma of her hair upon the still air. It soothed his nerves.

  Hours had passed before the mist finally subsided. The forest lightened and dazzling rays of sunlight began to flood the ground, transforming dewdrops into rising spirals of steamy vapour which lingered only momentarily before dispersing. Above them, the canopy had become alive with the chatter of birds. A few, including a black fantail that looked identical to the one that had shown Aldrick the path to his mother’s grave, followed them, flitting happily between the lower branches. At times the birds would dart across the path in front of them and chirp loudly, as if to boast of their courage.

  Shortly after noon the company came upon a steep bank, down which the path wound two and fro to meet a stream. Aldrick could see over the tops of the trees and on down the valley. It continued a fair distance before the mountains gradually arced eastward.

  “We shan’t be going that way,” Jon said. “It leads you too far from your destination. Though I wish to reach Galdrem as soon as I can, I will accompany you to Blackbed first. We leave the mountains here.” He turned his horse left to follow a muddy track Aldrick had failed to notice.

  “Where does this lead?” asked Sinin.

  “It is a shortcut that will take us into the Lonely Province,” Jon replied over his shoulder, “an old hunter’s passage which leads between the peaks.”

  Soon enough they were deep within a narrow ravine which had, over the ages, been carved through earth and stone between the mountains. Its walls were covered in green moss, except for along their bases where floodwater passed frequently enough to prevent anything living from claiming a permanent hold. Here, veins of a dull golden mineral could be seen running through stone. Aldrick put out his hand and picked at some, only to find it was surprisingly flaky and turned into a fine paste when pressed.

  “No, it’s not gold, sadly,” Jon informed Télia, who was also examining it keenly. “It is called mica—very common in the highlands.”

  Télia looked rather disappointed and continued on. Aldrick smiled to himself, watching her ride away. She was… inexpressibly faultless. Her emotions shone from her with ease, yet there was rarely a moment when he could tell exactly what she was thinking. Perhaps this was one reason she lingered in his mind so often.

  In time the walls of the ravine receded and they found themselves surrounded by foliage once more. The sun had followed them to this side of the mountains and eyed them through the branches ahead. Fortunately, the track wound down the slope i
n a northward direction and they were spared from its glare.

  When they emerged from the trees, a breathtaking view greeted them. Aldrick had envisioned the Lonely Province as a dull and solemn place. However, it was quite the contrary. Gentle hills, painted in vibrant green long grass rolled far into the distance. Between these hills, shady meadows flourished and streams trickled, searching for lower lands. In the north, a great river meandered toward the western coast—a silver grass snake in the afternoon sun.

  Télia gasped. “Beautiful.”

  Jon also gazed on in marvel. “Isn’t it? A place of serenity, though that is an illusion severed by a knowledge of its past. Great battles were waged in these lands. We may very well find ourselves treading upon some of the battlefields.”

  “This was during the civil wars?” Aldrick asked.

  Jon nodded. “Yes. They were the bloodiest times in our history.”

  “So far,” said Aru, speaking for the first time since morning. “Let us not forget why we are here.”

  “I’m quite sure none of us have,” Sinin said dismissively. “There is no reason not to enjoy this journey while we’re on it. I just wish we had thought to bring the rest of the wine along with us.”

  Télia hit him hard on the shoulder.

  “Ouch,” he said in barefaced sarcasm.

  Jon dismounted and stretched his back. “Well, we may have no wine but we do have food and water. Come—let us refresh ourselves before continuing. We will ride with haste for the remainder of the afternoon.”

  They spoke little as they rested. As well as the beautiful view, thoughts of the road ahead kept their minds occupied. Aldrick was thinking on Jon’s forthcoming departure and wishing it didn’t have to be so. He knew the Blackbed Plains weren’t far away. The distant north-western horizon was draped in a murky haze—a foreshadowing of the dark terrain below. Did they stand a chance in such a place without Jon’s wisdom and wizardry? Only time would tell.

  A strong breeze, heard first as a wave of rustling branches travelling down the mountainside, swept past them and transformed the fields beyond into a rippling ocean of green.

  “We had best continue on,” said Jon after admiring the display for a while.

  They stood and summoned their horses. Télia, Sinin and Aru whistled to theirs in a way Aldrick had never heard. It was high pitched, though achieved without using one’s fingers. Their horses quickly responded, bolting back at a gallop. De’ama seemed particularly driven and won their imaginary race. When she reached Télia, the mare pranced around in circles, singing her own praises.

  “The wind excites her,” said Télia, patting her softly on the neck. “It gives her wings.”

  Without warning Sinin had a sword drawn and was facing the forest behind them.

  Jon strode to him. “What is it, Sinin?”

  “We have a follower.”

  As swiftly as Sinin had drawn his sword, Télia and Aru had crossbows in hand. Télia grabbed Aldrick’s arm and pulled him sideways to the cover of a solitary boulder. Turning back, he saw Jon seize his staff and drop down into the grass by his horse. Aldrick drew a knife from his belt and rested his back against the boulder. Télia crouched and readied her crossbow beside him.

  “We’re in a bad position here,” she said, distressed. “Our visitor has the forest as cover.”

  Aldrick listened for the sound of movement within the trees but the rush of the wind through their leaves drowned out all else—another disadvantage. With any hope, whoever approached was not yet aware they had been compromised.

  Looking sideways, Aldrick saw Sinin and Aru stooped in the grass alongside Jon, using the slant of the hill as cover. They were motionless, attention fixed upon the treeline. He lifted his head slightly and peered in the same direction.

  After a nervous wait, a figure on horseback emerged from the trees. No sooner had it done so than Jon was on his feet, his staff raised in hand. There was a cry and the figure lifted from the horse and dangled upside down in mid-air with arms and cloak reaching for the ground.

  Suddenly Aldrick realised who it was.

  “Jon, put him down!” he shouted urgently, jumping out from cover. “That’s Kaal, you fool!”

  Jon stared at him in shock. “What?”

  “It’s my brother! Put him down!”

  Jon’s staff fell and so did Kaal, rather violently, to the ground.

  Aldrick sprinted to him. “Kaal, bloody hell, Kaal, what are you doing here?” He heaved his brother to his feet and brushed him off.

  “What… there… just… happened to me…?” Kaal stammered. “Aldrick, is that you?” He pushed back his mess of black hair and stared at Aldrick in total bewilderment.

  Aldrick grinned. “Yes, it sure is. How in all hell did you find us here?”

  Kaal wiped his pale face and sat himself back on the ground. “I tracked horses… Aldrick, what happened just then? Didn’t you see? I was lifted into the air.”

  Now Aldrick tried not to grin. “That was some of Jon’s magical powers. Sorry, he didn’t recognise you.”

  Kaal’s face was void of expression. “Magical powers,” he repeated.

  “Yes. He is a wizard, remember? I mean wielder.”

  Kaal didn’t respond. He looked beyond Aldrick to where Jon stood in the grass, dressed in his robes, holding his staff.

  Aldrick took the reins of Kaal’s horse and started walking back to the others. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

  They congregated where they had first sat to rest. Kaal kept at Aldrick’s side, visibly uneasy.

  Jon came and embraced him. “Kaal, it has been too long. Sorry for lifting you off your steed just now. I wasn’t expecting it to be you. What a pleasant surprise this is.”

  “You… you are truly a wielder, Jon?” Kaal asked him in awe.

  Jon grinned. “Yes indeed… surprise!”

  Aldrick took a breath. Now was as good a time as any. “I am too, as it turns out…”

  Kaal stared at him.

  “Oh, really? That’s good,” he said vaguely. He was in deep shock now. His pupils were wider than Aldrick had even seen them.

  “I suppose it is.” Aldrick gestured to the others. “These are aeras, hired to protect me—Sinin, Aru and Télia. Télia you already know, of course.”

  Kaal nodded at them but avoided eye contact.

  “This is your brother, Aldrick?” Sinin stepped forward and opened his arms to Kaal. Kaal didn’t move.

  “He is.”

  “Obviously not a blood brother, right?” asked Aru obnoxiously. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be so special.”

  “No he isn’t.” Aldrick thumped Kaal on the back. “But we are brothers all the same.”

  “Why is he here?”

  “No, why are you here?” asked Kaal, regaining control of his words. He glanced round at them all. “I was expecting to find Aldrick at Jon’s house.”

  Aldrick was unsure of how best to respond.

  “We are kind of… on a quest,” he said, almost as a question.

  “To rid the world of an evil wielder,” added Télia.

  “I should have guessed,” Kaal said, flinging his hands in the air.

  “I know how you’re feeling, Brother,” Aldrick reassured him.

  Aru leant in close to Jon. “We don’t have time for this, and we certainly haven’t space for another in our company. There is little he can offer us.”

  Kaal had overhead her.

  “I am here for my brother,” he said firmly. “I’m sticking with him wherever he goes.” He turned to Aldrick. “Father sent me to watch over you after he returned. He failed to mention any quests, though.”

  “Well, there have been some recent developments.”

  “You didn’t think to come home before gallivanting off across the Narathlands?”

  “I did, but we are pressed for time, very pressed.”

  Kaal glared at him with a firmly locked jaw for a time, then sighed and crossed his arms. “So w
hat’s going on? Tell me more about this ‘evil wielder’ your mystery woman mentioned.”

  After convincing the others there was time to spare, Aldrick tried his best to enlighten Kaal to the whole story so far, emphasising his sole ability to drain Malath’s storm in an attempt to justify his partaking in the quest. The whole time Kaal listened in silence, as he himself had when Jon told him much of this.

  When Aldrick finished speaking Kaal simply said “Uh ha,” before continuing with “So, I guess finding this half stone thing is a reasonable move, considering Malath sounds like some kind of maddened god. But in all honesty, it sounds as though we are screwed either way, going on what you’ve said.”

  “I like your positivity. It’s inspiring.”

  Kaal managed a grin. “Do you feel like you’re up to the task? Will you actually be able to absorb Malath’s… storm power stuff?”

  He shrugged. “We’re all hoping so.”

  Jon came to them. “It is time to go, lads.”

  Aldrick looked to the others, who were waiting on horseback. Aru looked very impatient. Télia appeared the contrary. Her eyes were closed and she was singing a soft song to herself. Her hair was caught in the breeze and danced gracefully around her face. He couldn’t make out any of the lyrics to the song, but the melody was beautiful and somewhat haunting. It almost sounded like a lament.

  When he and Kaal had mounted their horses, the six of them set off down the lower mountainside. At its base they picked up their pace and began a swift journey across the undulating fields of the Lonely Province. The wind was now at their backs, spurring them forward. Jon led but De’ama frequently galloped ahead, whinnying stubbornly in response to Télia’s efforts to slow her. She was a free spirit.

  Shortly before sunset, Aldrick noticed some strange objects bridging the horizon ahead of them. Haphazardly spaced between two broad hills, they rose from the ground; some wide, some thin, all the light tones of marble. It soon became apparent that these were the ruins of some ancient city, the nearest of which being one half of a great archway. Upon reaching this, the six companions slowed to a trot and proceeded into the ruins.