Whistler

by Roger Taylor

  Vredech looked down at his hand, his face alight with bewilderment and horror. ‘What have I done?’ he stammered, gripping his bruised fist and raising it to his mouth in dismay.

  An arm closed gently about his shoulder. It was Horld. ‘We must tend to Mueran,’ he urged, but Vredech was too shocked to respond. He shook himself free and gazed around – at the passing crowd, at the Witness House, at the fallen form of Mueran with Morem bent over him. Only one thought occupied his mind however. What had possessed him to strike his fellow Chapter Brother, he who had never struck anyone in his entire life, and who himself had rarely been struck, even as a child? The horror and shame of it rang about his head like the tolling of a great bell. It seemed to him that the crowd was emerging from and disappearing into a long echoing tunnel, and that Mueran and Horld and the others, too, were far, far away.

  ‘More a warrior than a preacher.’

  Denial rose within him as the Whistler’s words echoed through his mind. But other things the Whistler had said came, too, and the memory of the sacked city and its massacred inhabitants. ‘Such a fate is always waiting for those who forget the darkness in their nature. Learn it now or you’ll be taught it again.’

  The darkness in their nature?

  The darkness inmy nature, he thought.

  No!

  ‘Learn it or you’ll be taught it again.’

  ‘Allyn, snap out of it, we must tend to Mueran.’ Horld’s voice broke through his turmoil, jerking him back giddyingly to the gates of the Witness House. A residual flurry of regret and apology washed at the edges of his mind for the violence he had committed, but he ignored them. Somewhere their importance had been diminished.

  ‘What can we do, Morem?’ he asked unsteadily, looking down at Mueran’s livid face. ‘Shouldn’t we take him inside?’

  Morem shook his head. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said unhappily. ‘It’s something serious, and I don’t think we should risk moving him. We need a proper physician – someone will have to go down and fetch one quickly. All we can do here is get blankets to cover him with, keep him warm.’

  ‘Let me through!’

  Purposeful hands pushed an opening in the gathering around Mueran. They belonged to Nertha. Vredech was at once relieved, surprised and ashamed to see her, but she knelt down by Mueran’s side without even acknowledging him. Her initial examination was swift and expert, but Vredech read her conclusion from her posture even before she finally stood up.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid he’s dead.’

  There were gasps of dismay and disbelief and several of the Brothers, Horld included, circled their hands about their hearts. Morem’s hands went to his mouth in a curiously feminine gesture. ‘There was nothing you could have done,’ Nertha said to him, laying a hand on his arm.

  ‘Why?’ someone asked rhetorically. ‘Why now? Why here?’

  For an instant, Vredech half-expected some caustic comment from Nertha about the questioner being better placed to answer that than she was, but she merely shook her head, causing Vredech more self-reproach. It whirled round him jagged with guilt and anger and helplessness.

  ‘We must take him inside,’ he heard Horld saying, his voice strained. ‘Away from this… this…’ He gave up. ‘Cover his face. Lift him gently.’

  Vredech turned towards the passing crowd. They were paying no heed to what had just happened. He wanted to shout and scream at them, curse them for their blasphemous folly in what they were doing, for their callous passing by, but he merely gaped.

  Then Nertha was in front of him, staring at him intently. ‘Allyn, look at me. Look at me!’ She took hold of his chin and turned his head until his eyes met hers. They were shining with half-formed tears, but her voice was steady. ‘I’m truly sorry about Mueran. There was nothing anyone could have done.’ Her look became almost imploring. ‘But what’s happening here? Why did you hit that man?’

  Vredech barely took in her words. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.

  ‘House told me about the crowds coming here,’ she replied impatiently. ‘I had a bad feeling.’ She gave a self-conscious shrug and turned away from him. ‘I thought I should be with you. I was afraid.’

  ‘Afraid of what?’ he asked.

  ‘All of a sudden, of everything.’ She was almost shouting. ‘So many awful things happening so quickly. I can’t really believe it.’ She glanced over her shoulder at the crowd still trudging relentlessly by.

  ‘Disbelief and astonishment are luxuries we haven’t the time to afford,’ Vredech said, speaking the Whistler’s words as they also returned to him. Resolve was forming in him in the wake of his violent outburst and the shock of Mueran’s death. ‘We must accept reality as we find it, however unbelievable, however unpleasant.’ He took her arm and began moving after the impromptu cortege bearing away Mueran’s body. As he reached it he took hold of Horld with his other hand.

  ‘We must try to stop Cassraw holding this service,’ he said urgently.

  Horld made no effort to conceal his anger. ‘I think we’ve more important things than Cassraw’s foolishness to deal with at the moment, don’t you?’

  Horld’s anger stirred Vredech’s own. ‘No, I don’t,’ he replied bluntly. ‘Mueran’s gone, Ishryth speed him, but Cassraw right now is leading hundreds of people to the very place where he encountered whatever it is that’s possessed him. He’s also done something that could start a war with Tirfelden, and, for what it’s worth against those two items, he’s the Haven Parish incumbent and by tradition, the new Covenant Member until elections are held!’

  Horld faltered under the impact of this brief but portentous list. The others continued into the Witness House. His face became stern and unreadable and after a long pause he murmured, ‘Better me as Covenant Member than Cassraw.’

  They paused only to allow Horld to announce their intention to Morem and the others then the three of them set off to join the crowds heading towards the summit. As they were passing through the gate to the Witness House, they were joined by Skynner, brought here by a mixture of curiosity and deep concern about what was happening. Instinctively uneasy about Cassraw’s intention of holding a service on the summit of the Ervrin Mallos he had set off in the hope that someone at the Witness House would be able to tell him whether it was legal or not. As he had made his way through the crowd he had largely abandoned any idea of attempting to stop it on the grounds of simple practicality, but on hearing of Mueran’s death he renewed his intention.

  The mood of the crowd was strange. For the most part it was good-natured, but for every face that was smiling or excited, Vredech saw two that were darkened by a grim earnestness, or lit by an unreasoning zeal.

  ‘Not in Canol Madreth,’ he had said to the Whistler after his vision of the devastated city.

  ‘Anywhere. Everywhere,’ had been the reply.

  He began to feel afraid. He found himself softly whistling the Whistler’s three notes in elaborate cross-rhythms to that of his plodding footsteps. The way was steep and all four were too preoccupied with their own thoughts for conversation, but Vredech was relieved to have them by him.

  When they reached the gulley that led up to Ishryth’s lawn, Skynner used the authority of his uniform to push a way through to the front of the crowd that had accumulated there. He used it again to lead his party through the people lingering on the lawn’s grassy turf prior to beginning the final ascent.

  Before they began this last part of the climb, Skynner looked at the sky. Clouds were gathering – not the black ominous ones that had marked the fateful day of Cassraw’s transformation – but dark and ominous enough to say that they carried a good deal of water and that the growing crowd could look forward to a wetting and a premature evening.

  ‘This is going to turn into a nightmare,’ Skynner muttered. ‘Saving your cloth, Brothers, but I’m beginning to think that Brother Cassraw has gone raving mad. If we don’t get two score injuries out of this lot on the way down in the d
ark and the pouring rain, I’ll eat my baton.’

  Vredech and Horld exchanged glances. ‘We’ll try to talk him out of it before it gets too dark,’ Vredech said half-heartedly.

  Horld however was uncompromising. He used Vredech’s own reference. ‘A man who’s reputedly set about starting a war with our nearest neighbour is unlikely to be concerned about a few cracked heads and sprained ankles.’

  Vredech let the matter lie and concentrated on where he was putting his feet. Nertha remained silent throughout, her long legs keeping her a little way ahead of the group, seemingly effortlessly.

  Then they were at the summit. There was already a large crowd there but it parted to let them through. ‘More your uniform than mine this time, I think,’ Skynner said quietly to Vredech and Horld as they walked along the aisle that had been formed.

  Nertha whispered to Vredech. ‘It’s much worse than it was the other day. Something’s happened up here since then.’

  Vredech nodded. The presence that he had sensed and ultimately opposed a few days earlier was all around him again, but many times stronger. He glanced at Nertha. She was pale and her face was tense. ‘We must be very careful,’ he said. She did not seem to be listening. He shook her arm, making her start. ‘Now you know, He can’t take possession of you again.’ He shook her once more. ‘Do you understand?’ he hissed.

  Nertha nodded agitatedly. ‘Yes, yes.’

  ‘Well, cling to it,’ Vredech said urgently. ‘Cling to it above all else. We stood against Him once almost by accident. The two of us prepared can do it again if need arises.’

  ‘I don’t know how,’ she stammered.

  ‘Just remember who you are, who we both are.’

  ‘It’s much stronger.’

  ‘So are we.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Skynner’s commanding tone ended the whispered exchange. He was addressing a group of Cassraw’s Knights who were apparently guarding the cluster of rocks that marked the summit. They were masked.

  ‘Brother Cassraw told us…’

  ‘Take that thing off your face when you talk to me, lad,’ Skynner said impatiently.

  The Knight waxed indignant. ‘These are the masks we wore at the Battle of Bredill. They are badges of honour. They…’

  ‘No honourable man hides his face before the law,’ Skynner said, real anger seeping into his tone. ‘Take them off, all of you. As for what you did at Bredill, that’ll doubtless be a matter for an Assize in due course. Now do as you’re told, or do I have to do it for you?’

  There was a moment of hesitation in which the Knight took in Skynner’s lowering bulk, and the hand resting on his baton, then with a markedly ill grace he pulled off his mask and motioned the others to do the same.

  As the surly features of the young men emerged, Skynner nodded. ‘That’s better,’ he said. ‘Now I know who I’m talking to – Troidmallos’s finest, part of Yanos’s little band of heroes. I wonder if Brother Cassraw really knows who’s getting into his precious Knights?’

  ‘They’re all exhausted,’ Nertha whispered to Vredech as she took in their sunken eyes and drawn features.

  ‘They’re all leaving,’ Skynner said, catching part of Nertha’s remark. ‘Go on, clear off. Get back to your homes and present yourselves at the Keeperage first thing tomorrow morning. There’s a deal of questions to be asked of you and your friends.’

  Without waiting to see if his command was being obeyed, he clambered on to the stained rock. It began to rain as he addressed the growing crowd. ‘Listen to me, all of you,’ he shouted. ‘Go back to your homes right away. It’s too dangerous to have so many of you up here. The light’s failing, the weather turning, and many of you could be hurt descending. Go now while you can, and go carefully.’

  Voices were raised in argument.

  ‘The Chosen One is coming.’

  ‘We’ve come to see where He revealed Himself to the Chosen One.’

  ‘We’ve come to give thanks for the saving of our land from the Felden devils.’

  ‘Go home!’ Skynner thundered through the mounting din. ‘Go home now.’ He took a chance. ‘No service can be held here. This place has not been proven by the church.’

  ‘This place needs no proving by the hand of man, Serjeant.’

  The voice over-topped Skynner’s. It was Cassraw.

  All eyes turned towards him. ‘This is His most holy place,’ he went on, stepping forward. ‘To here He will return and from here will His renewal of the world begin.’ Cries of ‘Thus let it be’ and ‘Praise Him’ rose from the crowd.

  Vredech and Horld looked at Cassraw aghast. He was dressed in the formal black cassock of the church, but across it ran the red sash of his Knights of Ishryth, and draped over one arm was one of the faceless masks that the Knights had worn at Bredill. Around his head he wore what appeared to be a silver circlet; it rose to a point at the front and culminated in a single star-shaped jewel. Behind him stood Dowinne, dressed in a long undecorated black robe. On either side of him stood a rank of his Knights, and behind Dowinne another group of Knights were bearing a stretcher over which was draped the Madren flag.

  ‘This is a mockery,’ Horld burst out. ‘Your words and your appearance are sacrilegious.’

  ‘I forgive you your intemperance, Brother Horld,’ Cassraw said, though his eyes were far from forgiving. ‘I have just heard of the sudden and tragic death of our beloved Covenant Brother, Mueran, and your distress is understandable. But while my heart grieves for the loss of a dear friend and counsellor, his sceptre falls to me by tradition and, with all humility, I will take it and carry it forward as he would have wished, striving ever for the good of our church. Mysterious are His ways, and not for us to question.’

  Horld stepped forward, eyes blazing, but Vredech caught hold of him. At the same time, the Knights flanking Cassraw moved close about him.

  ‘There’s nothing we can do,’ Vredech whispered to Horld, desperately fearful that the once blacksmith was about to resort to violence. And indeed, he felt the man’s considerable strength trembling against his grip before it finally relaxed. ‘He’s right. He does have tradition on his side at the moment, not to mention those thugs and this crowd. But we have time and the lay authority, and tradition, too, which demands a proper election of the Covenant Member within fifteen days.’

  Cassraw and his entourage advanced towards the rocks and Horld and the others stood aside. As Cassraw passed, Vredech caught his gaze. ‘Turn away from this path, Enryc, I beg you,’ he said, very quietly. ‘Whatever touched you that dark day, it was not Ishryth, it was some ancient evil. Only horror lies before you. Some part of you must know that. Look deep into yourself and find again your true nature before you destroy both yourself and countless others.’

  Cassraw stopped and doubt flickered briefly in his eyes. But it was like the flare of a candle caught in the howl of a gale, and was gone before it could illuminate anything.

  ‘Follow me or…’ He faltered. ‘Follow me, Allyn. Follow me. There is no other way. All has been revealed to me.’

  He turned away quickly and stared up at Skynner, still standing on the rock. ‘You are defiling His most holy place,’ he said, his voice menacing.

  Skynner crouched down and looked at him squarely. ‘I’m standing on a rock, Brother Cassraw. I’m not going to trade theology with you, though as I recall the Santyth, when Ishryth was asked should a temple be built for him, said that all places are his temple and should be respected equally.’

  Cassraw almost snarled, ‘Your interpretation of the Santyth is flawed, Keeper, as is that of many others. I shall disclose the truth of His words as they have been and as they will be revealed to me. Now remove yourself.’

  Skynner ignored the strident tone of the last remark and tried appealing to reason. ‘Brother Cassraw,’ he began. ‘Look at these people, look at this weather. This is neither the time nor the place for a service. People are going to be hurt.’

  ‘Hurt!’ Cassraw hissed, his
voice low despite its power. He turned towards the stretcher being carried by the Knights. ‘This is hurt. Young Marash here suffered the supreme hurt, perishing at the hands of the servants of evil as he defended his motherland while those who should have been doing it, squabbled like children. I will not ask you again, Serjeant; remove yourself from this sacred stone!’

  Skynner bent forward and brought his face very close to Cassraw’s so that only he could hear what was being said.

  ‘I didn’t care for the “or else” in that last remark, Brother. Let me remind you that you are disobeying a lawfully-given order from an officer of the state, which, as you know full well, will not be countenanced by the church authority when all this, and whatever comes of it, is accounted for – which will be soon, I guarantee you.’ His voice fell even lower and, as if in spite of himself, Cassraw leaned forward to hear. ‘If perchance you’re thinking of further aggravating matters by having these louts of yours lay hands on me, not only will that, too, have to be accounted for, but you should be quite clear in your mind about whose head will be cracked open first.’

  Cassraw’s entire body began to quiver perceptibly at this implacable opposition, and his face went first white, then red. Before he could speak, however, Dowinne took his arm. He turned to her sharply, and Vredech noticed her grip tightening powerfully. He caught no hint of any exchange between them other than eye contact, but Cassraw’s manner slowly softened. When he turned back to Skynner, he wore a conciliatory smile. Skynner’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  ‘I’ll not debate this further with you, Serjeant,’ Cassraw said. ‘Your ignorance is excusable, this time, but it is not fitting that I, the Chosen, should allow it to distract me from my mission here. I offer you no reproach. There are many in this land who are ignorant and who await the One True Light, to bring them the truth.’ He placed his hands on the boulder. ‘See though, how He weeps at your obduracy.’ He looked pointedly at Skynner’s feet. Skynner could do no other than follow his gaze.