The Moonshawl: A Wraeththu Mythos Novel

by Storm Constantine

  ‘What do you want of me?’ I asked.

  ‘For you to stop being a pest,’ he said. ‘Leave it be. I know you won’t until you’ve ferreted every last morsel off the bone, so here I am. Now, be satisfied, and leave it be.’

  ‘If you know me so well, then you also know I won’t do that.’

  He sighed. ‘Even Rey had the grace to give up before you did. He’d be dead if he hadn’t. He meddled too, through the best of intentions. It’s not just me, you understand. You think you can come here and somehow heal everything?’ He uttered a cold laugh. ‘Impossible. If you care so much for the harling, steal him away, ride fast. She’ll have him otherwise.’

  ‘Vivi,’ I said. ‘Is that who you mean?’

  He stood perfectly still, only his mouth moving. ‘Who else? You’ve learned that much.’

  ‘Why can’t you stop her? What hold has she over you?’

  ‘None. We are simply of the same fabric. She wants to be loose, but I won’t let her. That is my only control.’

  ‘So you hide here, denying yourself a life, but also denying her freedom.’

  He smiled coldly. ‘Well done, you get it. Part of it at least.’

  ‘But Vivi, unlike you, is dead.’

  Peredur exhaled through his nose impatiently. ‘Nothing dies here. The land is a storehouse. Oh, we cursed each other well enough, she and I. We were bound from the moment she decided to dismantle me. As she took from me, so I took from her, not least the ability to move on. So she’s my curse and I am hers. There are curses everywhere, to go with all the others uttered over the millennia in this land. Gods and heroes, goddesses and witches, all set free now the world is new again.’

  ‘It must be possible to end this particular curse,’ I said.

  ‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you?’ Peredur sauntered to the sofa, his only betrayal of blindness the minnow quick reach with a hand to touch it. ‘Sit with me,’ he said. ‘Let me taste across the air between us what has Nytethorne in such a bother.’

  I sat down, conscious of the flush across my face, glad he couldn’t see it. ‘I’m not the first in that respect either, am I?’ I couldn’t help saying.

  Peredur put his head to one side, a coquettish gesture that teetered dangerously close to being grotesque. Somehow, he managed to get away with it. ‘So you’re as afflicted too,’ he said. ‘Jealous? Worried you can’t measure up to he who came before you?’ He stretched his arms out along the back of the sofa.

  I didn’t enlighten him as to the true nature of my concerns about Nytethorne, and was glad he hadn’t worked that out for himself.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Peredur said. ‘They weren’t close for long. Rey, like you, thought he was being clever, detecting. Then he found out the truth and realised he wasn’t clever at all.’ He smiled, more warmly now. ‘Mossamber likes to play with your kind. He thinks you’re like kittens chasing toys. Charming, really, but sometimes the claws do scratch and the kittens have to be put outside for a while, where they can’t hurt anyhar, so they learn not to scratch.’

  ‘I’m not here to play,’ I said. ‘As you allowed me in, do me the courtesy of finishing the story. You faked your own death, I take it.’

  The smile fell from Peredur’s face. ‘How crude you are. If you must know, I truly intended to die, but what lives in this land, its genius loci that has nourished me since birth, wasn’t ready to let me go. The water spat me out. Reluctantly, I was reborn. Mossamber had the idea that we should let the Wyvachi think I’d gone. They’d leave us alone then, and we could deal with Vivi ourselves, keep her busy, away from them and anyhar else.’ He pursed his lips. ‘This was not wholly successful, obviously. She’s straining at the leash now, and power is building up that she can feed on. I don’t know what will happen.’

  ‘And you’re quite content just to let that... occur?’ I said, disgust purposefully injected into my voice. ‘You’ll let her harm Myv?’

  ‘Oh Ysobi,’ Peredur said, as if with pity, ‘don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m still what I was, that ingenuous, floppy fool. The Silver Swan, as they called me, gliding down an endless, peaceful river. The truth is, I don’t care about anyhar beyond this domain. They bring disasters on themselves.’

  ‘If you really think that, why have you and Mossamber worked to contain Vivi all these years?’

  ‘Didn’t you listen to what I said? It’s not just her who has to be contained. She’s simply a part of it, as am I. And you.’

  ‘And me...?’

  ‘Yes. You have made it so.’

  ‘But what is it, in plain terms.’

  Peredur sighed impatiently. ‘I thought you knew. It is the ysbryd drwg, in the old language, an egregore of the past, created and moulded by those who suffered and died, and those who fuelled it thereafter. Tragedy goes back a long way in these valleys. The land as it is now, free of humanity, flexes its muscles, releases old memories. As I said, we’re all part of it.’

  I drew in a breath. ‘Right, so let me get things straight.’ I marked off my points on my fingers. ‘There is a malign egregore and you are partly responsible for it. You say you contain it, yet you haven’t done anything meaningful to actually stop it, even after all these years. Is there something about it that amuses you? Is it revenge, resentment, what?’

  Peredur grimaced. ‘It’s just the way things are, a stage we set almost a century ago. The Wyvachi are as responsible for it as I am.’

  ‘So you’re saying both sides are prepared to allow Myv to be sacrificed on the altar of this poisonous belief?’

  Peredur slapped the sofa with one hand. ‘Keep up, Ysobi! It’s not a case of what we can allow. None of us control it, not even Vivi. It’s in the soil, the sap, the waters. Hundreds of human voices crying out, hundreds of hara. Did you know that the Wyvachi and the Whitemanes, under Commander Malakess’s instructions, razed several phyles around here they thought unsuitable for this land’s future?’

  My face must have expressed my shock, and it was clear Peredur didn’t have to wait for words to illustrate my feelings.

  ‘Quite. You didn’t know. Even in Wyva’s early days there were still occasional purges. Nohar speaks of that, of course. They wring their hands and pull on their hair and weep about curses and terrible burdens. Perhaps they wanted the curse, in order to appease their guilt.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s a wormy mess, isn’t it? And so inconvenient now we’re established and civilised.’

  ‘So Medoc was right,’ I said. ‘He’s worked out a lot of it for himself.’

  There was a silence that again informed me Peredur didn’t know everything, not for example that I’d visited his brother.

  ‘So how is it you have the ability to contain this force yet can’t dispel it?’ I asked.

  Peredur made an insouciant gesture. ‘I’m alive simply to contain it. Hadn’t you thought of that?’

  ‘And yet you say you don’t care...’

  He sighed, somewhat irritably. ‘All right, it’s a nuisance. I wish it was gone. Mossamber does care, especially about the harling, although he’d rather die than let Wyva know that. Myv is the first harling to be born to that house since Wyva and his brothers. And now he’s nearly at his feybraiha, his potential.’

  ‘And events are building towards a climax,’ I said. ‘What will happen exactly? Do you know?’

  Peredur nodded. ‘At Reaptide, Verdiferel will be unleashed, and he is the guardian of the land at that time. He will inevitably merge with the egregore, the ysbryd drwg, and together they will bring a purge. None shall emerge unscathed.’

  ‘So in some ways, this year Verdiferel will be a manifestation of every etheric force lurking about?’

  ‘You could put it like that. We can go for years – decades even – when things are quiet and it’s easy to maintain balance in the land, but times are changing. Myvyen har Wyvachi is reaching maturity. You must feel dark energy building up around you. I smell it everywhere. I can taste it in the air, hear its breath. It threatens all of us, not j
ust the Wyvachi, though it’s doubtful they will survive it.’

  I felt as if pieces I’d been missing from my puzzle were falling into place. I’d sensed and guessed so much, but now I sat before the oracle, who knew far more than I did, who confirmed my intuitions. But oracles could be tricky. I must proceed carefully. ‘I see. So how does Mossamber intend to protect his family from this purge? You must’ve discussed it, surely?’

  ‘Yes... We’ve discussed you, as it happens.’

  I raised my brows at him. ‘Oh, really? Why, if you’ve only summoned me here to warn me off?’

  Peredur laughed coldly. ‘I wanted to hear what you’d say.’ He leaned towards me a little.

  ‘Wait...’ A light went on in my head. ‘Rey... me... All this time, perhaps with hienamas before us, Mossamber has been trying to find a solution, hasn’t he?’

  Peredur shrugged, a slight smile on his face. ‘Yes, I suppose he has – not that it did any good. Nytethorne has particular faith in you, although I did tell Mossamber it’s unwise to trust the judgement of the besotted.’

  ‘I agree, yet here I am.’

  He nodded. ‘Yes. There is a strong flavour to you, I can taste that. So...’ He paused. ‘As I said, there are cycles. We’ve experienced... risings... before. My brother Kinnard was the casualty of one of them.’

  ‘He tried to do something about it.’

  ‘Yes, although he had no chance to succeed alone. We worked hard to manage the rising then, and push it down again. Some of us were ill for weeks afterwards, weakened.’

  ‘Why didn’t you join forces with Kinnard at that time?’

  Peredur sighed, shook his head. ‘Do you really have to ask that? Yes? All right... It was because Kinnard would rather have murdered Mossamber than work with him. And because I didn’t want Kinnard to know I lived. And also because Kinnard was the only Wyvachi who really understood what was happening. The others would have rejected any overtures from Mossamber, except perhaps for Medoc. But he’d already taken the sensible way out and had fled.’ Peredur clasped his crossed knees with his hands. ‘Part of the problem is that although the Wyvachi believe in their curse, it’s almost a romantic ideal for them. They cherish their burden, yet they don’t act. They are in denial.’

  ‘Nytethorne intimated Wyva might have plans this time...’

  Peredur nodded again, thoughtfully. ‘I believe so, because I’ve sensed this. But they won’t come to anything and he’ll lose his son, possibly others, even his own life.’

  ‘But surely,’ I said carefully, ‘the families acting together is the only answer. You must know this, even if the task seems impossible. I can’t understand why you haven’t encouraged this, worked for it, even if you stayed out of it yourself?’

  Again Peredur sighed deeply. ‘Why do you make me explain things you already know? Or are you perhaps not as quick as I thought you to be? I haven’t bothered because my Wyvachi kin are stupid. They are unable to get over their prejudices enough to be of any use.’

  ‘And the Whitemanes are able?’

  Peredur laughed softly. ‘I take your point. No.’

  ‘Yet when so much is at stake? It seems almost wanton to maintain this feud. Aren’t the Whitemane harlings as threatened by this egregore as much as the Wyvachi ones are?’

  ‘Of course. That’s why we observe the festivals in the way we do. It’s an ancient pagan tradition, an attempt to appease the gods, so they won’t wreak havoc. It works, in its way.’

  ‘Or has done.’ I remained silent for a few seconds but Peredur waited for me to continue. ‘So, are you going to tell me the real reason I’m here?’

  He remained perfectly still for a moment, the moonstones gleaming. ‘I find it interesting that Mossamber allows Nytethorne near you. Initially, he’d decided that Wyvachi-called were no longer any use to us, and in fact rather a hindrance. Nothing good had come of Rey, or any of his predecessors, so why bother with the next one? But something has changed his mind.’

  ‘Have you asked him?’

  Peredur nodded. ‘Of course. He laughed. Talked about making the Wyvachi-called puppet dance. Yet both of us know that’s not entirely true.’ He paused. ‘He knows you’re here, by the way. I told him I’d be meeting you tonight. He said nothing. That in itself is interesting.’

  ‘You could simply have invited me over,’ I said. ‘You know I wouldn’t have refused, yet still you had to pull the strings. I hope you’re suitably entertained.’

  Peredur regarded me expressionlessly, remained silent.

  ‘Aren’t you bored of hiding?’ I asked abruptly, because I could sense within this har a great restlessness. Also, he was not as callous as he made out. There was a part of him I could feel shivering, unsure. He put up a good front, though.

  He yawned carelessly. ‘No, I don’t particularly want hara to see me. I have my rooms, my amusements. I have my chesnari... and his sons.’

  That you could not give him, I thought and perhaps uncharitably didn’t take much trouble to keep it quiet within me. I think if he could possibly have gone paler, he would have done then.

  ‘You don’t know how bad it was,’ he said, in a low hard voice. ‘Poisoned by my own body because I was burned shut. I won’t tell you more, because nohar should have to hear the details of that and how we coped with it. Losing the possibility of harlings was a minor thing in comparison. Being able to eat and process food properly took years to mend to a bearable level. You have no idea what we all had to go through.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I...’

  He waved a hand at me. ‘So long ago. I was somehow meant to survive and I did. My body fought to repair itself enough to function. The waters of what they now call Pwll Siôl Lleuad helped as much as they could.’

  There was a silence, then I said. ‘Peredur, why didn’t you just summon me from the start?’

  ‘You caught me unawares,’ he said, his head thrown back as if he were gazing at the pitted ceiling. ‘I was asleep one day, dreaming in the afternoon, in my roof garden. I found myself back at my pool, but for some reason I’d forgotten everything. I was just sightless, terrified, blundering about. Then there you were, telling me not to move, that you’d come to me.’ He smiled. ‘Well, I decided to believe it, see if you could.’

  ‘You believe more than that, don’t you?’ I said softly. ‘You don’t want to, but you can’t stop yourself. I won’t let go of the bone until I’ve crushed the marrow from it. You know I can help.’

  He didn’t reply for some moments. ‘Rey tried,’ he said at last. ‘He really tried, but he’s not... seasoned as you are.’ He laughed. ‘Like a big old oak tree. That’s how I see you in my head, with your autumn leaf hair, those dark summer eyes. But you are rooted, through experience. Rey was too young, too idealistic. One fierce storm and he was torn from the ground.’

  ‘I’d like to see that tried with me,’ I said, almost as a growl.

  ‘Be careful,’ Peredur replied. ‘Don’t be angry, for that is weakness.’ He inhaled deeply through his nose. ‘The truth? Yes, I want to believe. I set you a test. If you uncovered the mystery, followed the clues and found the treasure – that is, me, albeit not a very glittery one – then you would have a chance. I threw tricks all around you to see if you’d falter, but they seemed only to increase your resolve. If you can’t help, I’m sure you’ll die trying.’ He put his head to one side. ‘I made it like a story from legend. The hero has to complete tasks before he is worthy.’

  ‘Ask me, then,’ I said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You know. This is part of the legend too.’

  He sighed through his nose again. ‘Very well. Ysobi. For God’s sake, get rid of it for me, will you?’

  ‘Gladly,’ I said.

  Peredur stood up. ‘So, there is our pact.’ He walked back to the piano, played a few wistful notes. ‘Mossamber had this repaired for me. In the early days, it was the only thing that kept me sane. Then, as I slowly recovered, I found my skin, my touch, c
ould perceive colours – not very strongly to start with. I found there were other ways to see, that taste and smell and touch were in themselves a way of seeing. All this strengthened over time. Gemstones help me focus. Mossamber had the idea of the eyes. He had many made for me. Different coloured gems, with different properties, that I could wear as I liked. Moonstones for my music, rubies for play and for love, black obsidian for serious business. The others I don’t care for much.’

  ‘Those colours would suit you best,’ I said. ‘So I am music rather than serious business?’ I put a smile into my voice.

  ‘You saw me moonstoned in your visions. I wanted to be that when you first saw me in reality.’

  I wondered then why Mossamber had not sent this light of his life to Immanion, for the Gelaming healers could surely have done far more for him than had been done here. They would at least have helped him hone his clearly powerful senses. Cost wouldn’t have been an issue; the Gelaming would take on any case like this without asking for a fee. But then, hidden away in this corner of the world, the Whitemanes might have believed the Gelaming considered themselves above such matters.

  ‘I couldn’t leave here,’ Peredur said nonchalantly, as if I’d spoken aloud, ‘that’s the reason. I wouldn’t let Mossamber do anything. He’d had a reprieve: I lived. But if he wanted me to stay, then everything had to be on my terms.’

  ‘Do you ever go beyond the domain?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, not in flesh. I rarely even go into the main house. I have my rooms, the attics, my roof terrace, my music, my cats, my loved ones. Nytethorne reads to me. Ember plays games with me. Mossamber strokes my skin to weave pictures for me. Others come to talk with me. We enjoy beautiful food, for my sense of taste is strong. That is almost like aruna to me... almost. All that’s enough.’

  ‘Well, fair enough, but perhaps it’s time you did go out.’

  Again a shake of the head. ‘No.’

  I took a breath. ‘I think... now is the time for transparency. Too much has been hidden, or lied about, or left unsaid. I’ve been as guilty of that as anyhar. If we are to proceed from here, all the webs must be swept away. Those are my terms.’