It took only two weeks for the return trip to Belvedere from Sanctuary’s harbour on Wyalon and Captain Belmar found himself wishing Kuiran could be with him on every trip. The seas had been flat as a millpond and everyone on Jalwynd was well rested as the ship made her way north up Moreland Bay. As soon as Belvedere came into view, Kuiran removed the geas from Jalwynd and Captain Belmar ordered his crew aloft to put on some topsail to slowly enter the harbour. The less people knew of his abilities the better, as far as Kuiran was concerned. At his request, Belmar ordered his crew to say nothing of the magic they had recently witnessed.
As soon as Jalwynd was tied up, Kuiran and Raleen grabbed their belongings and told the Captain they were on their way up to Cristal’s mansion immediately. Kuiran took up his staff and he and Raleen strode off, impatient for tidings of Arwhon. Captain Belmar conferred with the Mate regarding shore leave then went to change into his best frock coat. Collecting up the gifts he had set aside for Cristal, Belmar also made his way ashore and flagging down a cart for hire, gave Cristal’s address to the driver, who helped him load his gifts.
The little Captain arrived at Cristal’s mansion about an hour after Kuiran and Raleen, who were at that moment deep in conversation with Raleen’s grandmother. Imagine their surprise when Cristal spied Captain Belmar’s cart through the study window and jumped excitedly to her feet, patting her hair into place before rushing out of the room. Raleen and Kuiran looked at each other dumbfounded and followed Cristal out. All became clear when they found Cristal and the Captain embracing in the hallway, Cristal’s chin resting on the top of the little Captain’s head and the Captain’s happy face tucked firmly into her bosom. They broke apart and Cristal blushed deeply before explaining the situation to the young folk. While she was doing so, Belmar went out and returned laden with gifts. There was more hugging after he’d presented them, each one well accepted by Cristal, who found them interesting and tasteful.
It was time for lunch, so as Mendle served up cold meats and salads, Cristal was brought up to date on all the various threads of the story relating to Kuiran and Raleen. From there, each added to the weft and weave of the adventures in all their strangeness and drama. The last any of them had heard was that Arwhon was travelling north from Encarill with the army of Myseline to deal with an invasion of strange beast-like people in the north but that was before Captain Belmar had left for Wyalon. What had happened to Arwhon since then was not known to them. There had been no word from him or Shiri or Cringle for the last seven weeks.
Kuiran sighed, placing his large mug back on the table.
“So basically, we don’t know where Arwhon, Shiri and Cringle are or even if they’re still together. How in Fate’s name can I help them in their quest if I can’t find them?”
“Patience Kuiran,” Cristal soothed, “they will let us know where they are eventually.”
“But it takes so long to get anywhere, Cristal. By the time I hear from any of them, it may be too late.”
Captain Belmar took his pipe from his mouth, a small tendril of smoke drifting from his lips and studied the deep-brown carved bowl as he spoke.
“Life is like th’ ocean Kuiran. When we sets out on a voyage there’s the ‘ope of clear sailing all th’ way but rarely does that ‘appen. Rain and storms springs up and sometimes gales, blowin’ us th’ wrong way but we perseveres. In life sometimes, we’re forced to go slow or wait fer a while until conditions gets more favourable or our way ahead opens up. Arwhon, or one of his companions will let us know where he is or what aid he needs. Until then tis a matter o waiting until we hear word. Jalwynd u’ll remain in port until such times as she be needed. She’s th’ quickest mode of transport to northern Myseline we ‘ave.”
Kuiran looked to the little Captain. He hadn’t thought of using the ship as a form of transport but with his skill as a Watermage, Jalwynd could be very useful.
“Thank you Captain Belmar. A timely and generous suggestion. Sometimes we overlook the obvious.”
Cristal rose from her seat and gave Belmar a kiss on the top of his head before looking at Kuiran and Raleen.
“Yes, he’s a most clever Captain. I too hate waiting but as we have no knowledge of their whereabouts, we have little choice.”
Shiri and Cringle were nearly to the Darkwood. Duran followed along behind, not at all happy at having been parted from Arwhon but Arwhon had asked him to go with Shiri so Duran had reluctantly obeyed.
Crossroads had been as interesting as always and Cringle felt a proud Servant riding into it beside Shiri. The M’Herindar princess was beautiful and even under a glamour managed to draw stares from some in the crowds of market-goers they passed. They overnighted in the ‘Black Butt’, the proprietor refusing payment from them, as his inn had now become extremely popular due to Arwhon and his companions staying there during their time in Crossroads. There was a buzz around the city, no doubt started by the fact that half the Militia garrison, around three hundred men, had left near a month ago to march up the Grand Valley. Tongues wagged as tongues were wont to do but neither Shiri nor Cringle said anything to anybody before leaving Crossroads the next morning, riding rapidly for the Darkwood.
Their travel through the sparsely treed grasslands, with Duran striding along behind, was uneventful and after three days the solid line of the green forest marked their arrival at the Darkwood. As they neared the trees, two Rangers stepped out, arrows nocked in their bows. Shiri hailed them and immediately they put their bows up and ran to her. She jumped down from Rancid and embraced each Ranger, asking for news and answering the questions they threw at her. Cringle also dismounted and waited patiently as Shiri chatted to her countrymen. He was Servant. It was his duty to wait.
Shiri and Cringle rode on under the Tree. They had no need of Rangers to accompany them. Shiri was communing with Ch’ron but from the look on her face it was obvious to Cringle that things had not improved since the last time he was here. As they rode along Cringle could not help asking after the present health of the Tree. Shiri answered his questions candidly.
“Ch’ron is suffering Cringle. He has given the M’Herindar succour for as long as my people can remember but now he is hurting. If things do not improve, Ch’ron will eventually become so eaten away he will cease to be aware of us. I cannot imagine life without Ch’ron. All I can hope is that Arwhon can successfully finish this business with the evil Q’Herindam Mages and get back here to heal Ch’ron before too much more damage occurs to him.”
Cringle nodded in response but he had a bad feeling about Arwhon’s quest. He knew in what direction Arwhon was of course, and approximately how far, as he could feel the pull of the knack which bound him to his Master. So far, Arwhon was not in danger but Cringle felt plain uneasy as he rode along beside Shiri. So much depended on that one person and they had left him at Forbidden. They had been ordered to go but Arwhon seemed to forget there was a reason he had a Shield, a Servant and an Arm, who was hopefully coming back one day from Wyalon. Preferably with Watermagic.
It didn’t matter how much magic Arwhon knew, he still couldn’t see into the future. Cringle had faith in the M’Herindar Wise Ones. Between them was nearly fifteen hundred years of living and acquiring knowledge and in that time they must have learned many things which were still obscure to those who were much younger. There was one other factor too. The M’Herindar Wise Ones had the gift of foresight. It wasn’t always easy to interpret but from all the stories Cringle had been able to put together, their foresight was pretty accurate. So much so in fact, Kuiran had arrived at Arwhon’s body just after Arwhon had been stabbed and eventually pulled the Dagger out of his chest allowing for Arwhon’s revival. All of which had been orchestrated by the Wise Ones in response to their visions of the future.
Cringle wished he could meet the Wise Ones. If they were anything like Vehrin’del, the Wise Ones would gladden his heart but he was a mere Man and the chance of a meeting with them was highly improbable.
They made camp th
at night at a way station where Ch’ron had grown many woven beds for travellers to and from the southern border of the Darkwood. Food grew in abundance around the site and small shrubs here and there provided privacy for those using the way station. Duran, Rancid and Vixen grazed together on the sweet grass nearby as Shiri and Cringle settled in for the night.
“How’s Arwhon?” Shiri asked.
Cringle felt his bond to Arwhon for a moment or two before replying.
“He’s heading steadily north, deep into the Forbidden Land. He seems fine at the moment. I can’t tell you anything more, my knack doesn’t work in that fashion; it’s more of a locator than anything else.”
Shiri smiled at him, relieved, her amethyst eyes shining and a warm glow suffused Cringle from his toes right up to the top of his head. Ever since Vehrin’del worked her magic on him, Cringle had a soft spot for the M’Herindar.
Next afternoon they arrived at Al’hera to find a large group of M’Herindar waiting to welcome their Princess. To Cringle, who had been here not so long ago, it seemed almost like the homecoming it actually was for Sihron’del. The pair drew up in front of Vehrin’del and Jahron’dal, surrounded by a throng of cheering onlookers. Shiri was a little embarrassed by all the attention but used the occasion to thank everyone and promised to bring them up to date on events in the outside world after she had spoken with her parents.
The Darkwood was rarely touched by the affairs of Man but all in it were aware of Ch’ron’s difficulty and the fact he was dying. The Q’Herindam were thought responsible, as the Forbidden Land worked its evil on Man and whoever else stood in the way of their goal to wipe Man off the face of the land. The M’Herindar supported Man and it was widely believed that the worm attack on Ch’ron originated in the Forbidden Land but it could not be proved beyond doubt. Unsure, the M’Herindar chose not to act for the moment. A war between them could result in their world tearing itself apart as Earthmagic raged unchecked between the two groups.
They dismounted and Shiri was warmly welcomed by her parents as Cringle unsaddled all three horses and turned them loose. They had all been here before and knew where to go, Duran in the lead. Cringle set the saddles on the ground then carrying their gear, with help from Jahron’dal, he followed Shiri upstairs, Vehrin’del leading. He was settled in Kuiran’s old room while Shiri went to her own. Soon they were all sitting around the table as the Queen of the M’Herindar was brought up to date with events in the world outside the Darkwood. Revelations of new races amused the Queen.
“They are not ‘new’. We have known of them ever since our ancestors, the Hirondae, came to the Darkwood. We just didn’t know if they yet lived or where they were. There were originally five races in these lands and two more across the oceans. Why, I have no idea.”
Cringle gazed adoringly at the Queen, wishing he was one of the M’Herindar so he could stay in the Darkwood forever. A memory rose to the surface and during a lull in the conversation, Cringle blurted out his request.
“Could I possibly talk to the Wise Ones? It’s really important I do. I don’t know why but it is. Something keeps nagging at me to go and see them but I’m not M’Herindar.”
Blushing, Cringle studied his boots, hoping he had not offended the Queen with his outburst. The silence stretched out and he started to become alarmed at his apparent lack of manners. Suddenly Vehrin’del spoke.
“You’re something of an enigma Cringle. None knew why Arwhon chose you to be his Servant. The Wise Ones never foresaw the event. We believe Fate stepped in again, as it seems to do where Arwhon is concerned. But you are Servant and if you feel the need to see the Wise Ones strongly enough, I feel it’s my duty to ask on your behalf. I’ll go to them tomorrow. There’s no need to be embarrassed or worry in your dealings with me, I’ve been in your mind and know your heart is True.”
Cringle raised his face and bathed in the glow of magic emanating from the Queen. It was the nearest thing to being home he’d ever known in his life. Looking around the table, he at last comprehended the acceptance the three M’Herindar exhibited toward him. Cringle hoped one day to find some of his own family and wished with all his heart they would show him the same feelings.
The following day both Cringle and Shiri were summoned to appear before the three Wise Ones of the M’Herindar. Cringle was all eyes, trying to alertly observe everything as he and Shiri walked down the dim pathway into the underground cavern. The carved walls rolled out their stories as they passed by and once, Cringle thought he saw Guilar and Dwarves amongst the carvings. At the bottom, the cavern was partially illuminated by magic, glowing balls hanging in air, their soft light picking out the black pool and the three white haired M’Herindar women seated on the far side of it.
Mahlin’del, the eldest, spoke. “Welcome to you both. We have heard the stories of your travels and would see what the pool has in store for you. Take a seat over there and be still. The waters do as the waters will.”
Sihron’del and Cringle settled onto a large smooth rock overlooking the dark pool and waited. Mahlin’del began a slow recitation, calling for the water to show a glimpse of what was to come. There was little response and Mahlin’del again repeated the spell. Mist began to form and Cringle saw himself in it, changed somehow. His hair was longer and blew back from his head as if he were standing in a fierce gale. He was sterner and his gaze piercing as his image looked straight ahead, its eyes unwavering. Cringle the man. Evolved.
The image lasted only for a moment before it gently blew apart, dissipating in the slight breeze in the cave. Sihron’del had seen it also but didn’t understand the significance of what she had seen. She looked to the Wise Ones questioningly as they conferred.
“We cannot tell you what it means Sihron’del. Obviously, its Cringle at some time in the future but when and why; we don’t know.”
Sihron’del felt cheated at only seeing a short vision of the future while Cringle was both amazed and abashed. He had seen magic at work and should have been happy but instead he was disappointed at the brevity of the vision he had witnessed and its obscure message and felt a little ashamed for being so. What was that short vision all about? He studied the three Wise Ones closely, wondering what made them reside in a cave while all the other M’Herindar lived above ground in tree homes grown for them by Ch’ron. He absently picked up a pebble and fiddled with it before idly tossing it into the pool.
There was a cry from one of the Old Ones and the dark water roiled in fury. Vapour jetted from the surface and once more coalesced to form a vision. This time it was obvious, as all of them saw Arwhon bathed in magical flames. He appeared to be battling many Mages at once and as they watched, his defences flared red to white as they protected him from damage, time after time. Not only Earthmagic was being used against him but also Watermagic, Airmagic and even, sporadically, Firemagic. Arwhon was clearly under extreme duress. Suddenly the vision disappeared and the waters stilled again.
“That was a foolish thing to do boy,” snapped Mahlin’del. “Even if it did result in a vision. It could just have easily been the end of us all.”
Cringle hung his head, thoroughly ashamed and chastened. Everything was so difficult sometimes but Mahlin’del continued.
“Yet we have witnessed the pool connected with you somehow and showed us Arwhon. Once again I fear for that boy and he will need assistance. His abilities, potent as they are, will not be enough to overcome the combined magic of the Q’Herindam Mages. He will need his Shield, Servant and Arm to win through.”
Sihron’del wiped a tear from the corner of her eye as her face hardened into a mask of resolve. Cringle never saw the look she gave him and if he had, he would have been worried by it. She rose and thanked the Wise Ones for their time and hurried out of the cavern. Cringle had to almost run to keep up with her.
Later, during the evening meal, Shiri announced she was going to travel to Belvedere. In fact they would leave in the morning. Cringle was surprised; Shiri had mentioned nothing to him
about travelling south. Vehrin’del was disappointed at Shiri’s announcement and protested she had not had enough time with her daughter but her complaints fell on deaf ears and the following morning, Shiri and Cringle rode out of Al’hera with Duran following along behind.
14. The Forbidden Lands.
Arwhon sat in the patchy shade of a gnarled and stunted tree watching Krissi effortlessly riding warm thermals in the cloudless sky high above. He had chosen to walk, as winging high above the countryside could result in him missing vital information which may prove essential latter. Water had become scarce as they travelled deeper into the Forbidden Lands from the town of Forbidden and the country around them proved dry and arid. They had found a much needed spring earlier and Arwhon had filled his waterskin while Krissi drank deeply. There was little game. What there was tended to be mostly bony and misshapen, giving little sustenance to the gryffon and less to him. Arwhon had taken to living off Firemagic, using collected Power to provide for his needs, leaving the prey for Krissi.
It was more than a week since he had bid farewell to Shiri and Cringle. In truth he would rather have had them come with him to battle the evil Mages of the Q’Herindam but he would have been unable to guarantee their safety and the slightest distraction could have proved fatal for all of them. Apart from Krissi, who was immune to magic, there was really only himself to watch out for now.
The Q'Herindam Page 28