Misthaven: The Complete Trilogy

by J Battle

  ‘Sorry, Mister,’ said Sam as he climbed the three steps into the townhall.

  There was a long corridor, with three doors to each side, and one at the end.

  Sam ignored the side doors as none of them looked very fancy to him, and he reckoned that the most important person would be behind the fanciest door.

  He stopped at the door facing the entrance across the corridor. It was tall, and double, and the handles looked to be made of gold.

  ‘That looks about right to me, and that’s for sure,’ he said, as he reached to knock on its smooth polished surface.

  He gave it a quiet knock so as not to offend.

  After a moment, he gave it another slightly louder knock.

  When a reasonable amount of time had passed, he tried again. This time he knocked the way he reckoned Tom would have knocked; loudly with a bit of a tune going on.

  Still there was no response. He put his ear against the door and listened. Someone was talking; he could hear them, but not the words.

  ‘This won’t do,’ he said, and then he took hold of the door handle and turned it, and pushed.

  He was hoping just to open one of the doors, but they both flew open, and he was suddenly exposed to a room full of people.

  Fortunately, they all had their backs to him and their attention on the person standing in the middle of the stage at the far end of the hall.

  Sam gasped. It was the Lady.

  ‘Ah now,‘ he whispered. ‘She’ll sort everything out; sure she will.’

  ‘My Lord Mayor and the other august members of the Town Council, let me just emphasise these few points. We have come to a time where Magic is lost, and we must accept that this is the way we will have to live. It will change everything we do, and it will change our home. The winds will come, and the snow, and the ice. The north of our valley will become uninhabitable; crops will die in the ground; many people will have to move down here to Hesselton.’

  She paused for a moment as her eyes passed over the audience. She saw Sam looking all worried at the back, and she couldn’t help a little smile forming.

  ‘But, and this is something we should bear in mind, the rest of the world survives well enough without Magic, and so shall we.’

  There was a murmur in the audience, and Sam noticed a man dressed all in finery sitting to one side of the Lady. He was looking down and shaking his head.

  ‘But, down to details. What must be done first? There are crops in the fields and they are ready for harvest, so teams of men and women from Hesselton must be gathered and sent into the valley to aid in the harvest, before the wind destroys everything.’

  The man in the finery began to clap as he stood up.

  The audience joined in and the Lady frowned and turned to the man.

  ‘Thank you so much Lady Ellendell, for your time and your considered words. We all appreciate it so much, that you should come and speak to us in this way, especially as it is such a long time since you or your father last cared to honour us with your presence.’

  He gestured to a narrow chair beside the somewhat larger item of furniture he’d been sitting in.

  She sighed and shook her head, and then she sat down.

  ‘Now, the fair Lady Ellendell has spoken, and dark words they were indeed, and I’m sure she meant every one of them. But it is important to keep things in perspective, and not rush off with plans for this and plans for that without due consideration. And, whilst Lord Richard, and now, his daughter, Lady Alice, have always been something of a figurehead for the town and valley, we should keep in mind that they have never had any sort of executive role in this council, and rarely attend our meetings.’

  He half turned to smile at the Lady to take the sting from his words.

  ‘Now, the Lady says that Magic has gone from our lands, and it is true that Mage Anders has passed away. Speaking for myself, although he was such a difficult man to deal with, I do mourn his loss. That being the case, we need to plan the best course of action, and those plans cannot be rushed into. We’ll set up a committee of the best of the councilors and they will meet and set a schedule, to discuss and analyze the situation and come up with proposals to implement strategies that can be put into place to deal with the changes in our situation.

  ’Of course, whilst this is all going on, we will not be idle. We will gather a team of the most able of our people, and we will send them out to find this BobbyJ person and recover what is truly ours.’

  Sam listened to all these words, and some went over his head, and others went in one ear and out the other, but he understood what the Mayor was saying.

  He stood at the back of the hall and raised both hands.

  When the Major carried on speaking, he began to jump up and down. Then he began to shout. ’Mister Mayor! Mister Mayor!’

  At last, when the Mayor paused to draw breath, he appeared to notice Sam.

  ‘Yes, young man? You are attempting to attract our attention, I believe.’

  Sam looked at all the people who’d turned around to study him, and he faltered for a moment. Then he saw the Lady’s smile of encouragement and he took his courage in his hands.

  ‘Yes, Mister Mayor,’ he said; his voice a little too low at first to be heard. Then he focused his eyes on the Lady, and he began to speak clearly. ’Sorry for shouting and that, but I thought you’d fair talk all day.’

  The Mayor smiled generously.

  ‘Now, you’re probably right there, young man. When I start talking, well, what can I say? What can we do for you, young man?’

  ‘I was just wanting to say, if it don’t offend, that, with all them there meetings you’re all going to be having, then you better be sure to be wearing your wellyboots, because that dam, it’s about to fail and we’ll all be washed away.’

  Chapter 62 Gorge

  ‘Mr Evens, have you ever read these books?’ asked Gorge, from the comfy chair by the fire.

  Evens was pottering around in the corner and didn’t seem to hear him.

  ‘Mr Evens?’

  ‘Oh, sorry there, lad, I must have been miles away, I think. Happens a lot when you get to my age, it surely does.’

  ‘How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking you straight?’

  ‘Ah well, lad, there’s no harm in asking. Now let me see. What year is it now?’

  ‘Why, it’s the 11th year of the reign of King Eron IV.’

  Evens nodded. ’I thought that would be about right. So, now that makes me, no, it can’t be, can it? I can’t be 100 next First Day of summer, can I? My, that’s something, isn’t it?’

  ‘It surely is, Mr Evens, and you look well enough on it.’

  ‘Thank you, lad, now, what were you asking there?’

  ‘It’s this book; and the others. Have you read them?’

  ‘Well now, I’ve looked at them, of course, but I can’t rightly say I’ve read them. Just the parts that my old Mage showed me and bid me memorise. Didn’t seem much point looking at the rest; it’s all nonsense to me, seeing as I can’t read the words.’

  ‘But there are notes, all the way through them. Translations I think.’

  ‘Ay, you’re probably right. That’ll be Anders, I should think. Always too much clever and not enough wise, as my old Mage always used to say.’

  ‘So, he could read the books?’

  ‘Looks that way, lest he was just guessing, and I wouldn’t say that was beyond him.’

  Gorge looked at the book in his lap. It was the one with the map at the back.

  ‘Where did you get your Wellstone, Mr Evens? Didn’t your old Mage pass it onto you?’

  ‘Nay, lad. By the time a Mage is ready to step aside for another, he’s pretty well used up the Stone. No, each new Mage has to go and find his own Stone, with guidance from the old Mage.’

  Gorge nodded, as if the old Mage’s words were confirming what he already knew.

  ‘So, you know where we could go to get a new Wellstone?’

  ‘Hah, lad. That bring
s a smile to this old man. But no, I’ll not be crossing God’s Saddle again; it’s too much for a 100-year-old man. It was nearly too much for a man of 30. And they’re not just lying around awaiting someone to pass along and pick them up.’

  ‘But, you could tell me?’

  ‘Nay, lad. You misunderstand me. You cain’t just pick it up; no siree; not at all. Not unless you‘s trained, and you ain’t trained, and I won’t train you, though I see that’s yer next question. No I won’t, and you cain’t ask me to.’

  Gorge was surprised to see tears on the old man’s cheeks, and at the way his accent broadened as he spoke.

  ‘Don’t you worry none, Mr Evens. Here, you take this seat by the fire and warm yourself through. No need to distress yourself there, Mr Evens. I was just talking, like. No harm was meant.’

  ‘I’s just tired here and now, lad. No more; no less. I seen too much, and there are things coming that I don’t want to see. Mayhap 100 years is a curse and not a blessing. What do ye think, lad? Am I right, or am I wrong?’

  ‘Don’t know, Mr Evens. I’ll be 16 summers this year, and it worries me what I might see before I get to your age.’

  Evens smiled. ‘Don’t you worry none, lad. It’s just an old fool being a fool. I seen things and done things I could never have guessed, and you’ll likely be the same. So, don’t worry yourself too much there. See, the old man tears have gone, and I’m back to myself again. It’s just something that happens when you get really old; you lose yourself from time to time. But I always come back to myself, so that’s no need for worry or tears.’

  ‘Shall I make you a drink, Mr Evens? Before I go.’

  ‘Nay, lad. It’s getting late and I won’t drink before bedtime, less I be up all night making water.’

  ‘That’s fine then, Mr Evens. I’ll be on my way then, and I can take these books with me, like you said?’

  ‘Did I say that, lad? Well, I must have, or you wouldn’t have said so. Be careful with them; they’re older than me, and that’s something. Did I tell you I was 100 next First of summer?’

  ‘Are you, Mr Evens? My, that is something to tell your mother about.’

  Gorge rushed from the cottage with the books clasped to his chest.

  There are good lies and bad lies, he thought. But he shouldn’t have lied about the books. He hadn’t meant to; it just came to him when he saw how confused the old mage had become.

  Still, now he had the books, and he’d take good care of them, so where was the harm in that?

  *********

  ‘You can get the Wellstone back, from BobbyJ,’ said Cavour.

  ‘Nay; why would I do that?’

  ‘Because he plans to use it, when he can find out how.’

  Rootheart puffed out his cheeks.

  ‘It shouldn’t be used. It should be destroyed, so’s it can’t hurt no-one else.’

  ‘Together we can catch him and take it from him.’

  ‘If he has the power of the Stone, that won’t be easy.’

  ‘He has the Stone, but he doesn’t know how to use it yet. That’s where he’s going. To see a Mage who’ll teach him all he needs to know.’

  ‘We have to stop all Magic in the land. It ain’t right, what it does. Not to the user or the person who gets it used on him. It ain’t right. I can see that, but he’s been gone for days now, if what you tell me is true. How can we catch him; I ain’t a runner, you can see that from the look of me.’

  ‘We don’t have to chase after him, because he’s gone the long way. We can go north, and cut him off, because I know where he has to go.’

  ‘North? Across God’s Saddle?’

  ‘We only have to cross its shoulder. A day or so should do it, if my leg holds up.’

  ‘I don’t like the cold, or the ice, or the snow. There’s that much of a Giant in me at least, and Giants, they surely don’t like the cold.’

  ‘When we cross, we travel to a place in the mountains he will have to pass through if he is to reach his destination. And there we will stop him and take the Stone from him.’

  ‘And what are your plans about the Stone? What do you intend to do with it? Will you take it for yourself and learn how to use it and become yourself a Mage?’

  Cavour shook his head and stretched out his hand. ‘Shake hands, Rootheart, in believe and trust, and know that I will not use the Stone at all. But it cannot be destroyed; not by human hand. But I will put it beyond the reach of man, and, on that, if nothing else, you can trust me.’

  Rootheart stared at him for a moment, as if he was running the words through his head just so that he could hear them again.

  ‘Right enough, Cavour,’ he said as he took his hand in his. ‘I believe you, but remember, these things, they go both ways, and you don’t want to be the person I am chasing. You understand me there?’

  ‘Ay, lad, that I do. Now, help me with this strapping on my leg. Let me see if your Magic touch has done the job.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to use Magic on you. I wouldn’t have, if I’d known, and I won’t do it again, and that’s for sure.’

  Cavour looked down at his naked leg in amazement. It was still bruised, and there were angry red scars yet to heal, where his broken bones had ripped through the skin, but the hidden bones felt whole and, when he flexed his leg, there was little pain.

  ‘You’ve done a wonder here, Rootheart, and that’s nothing but the truth.’

  ‘So, it’s time for us to go?’

  ‘Yes, I think. We’ve a good ways to go, and little spare time, for BobbyJ won’t hang around to count the daisies. He’ll have a rush on him.’

  As he covered up his healed leg, he studied the half-Giant.

  ‘You’ll need warmer clothes than a couple of blankets, I should think.’

  ‘Ay, you’ll be right there, but the clothes I found here don’t come near to fitting, though I reckon he was big for a man.’

  ‘Let’s see what we can find.’

  Soon Rootheart was dressed in an old cloak and a thick shirt with the arms cut off because his arms were far too thick and leggings made from half a blanket on each leg, all strapped together with what rope and string they could find.

  ‘I don’t reckon I’ll pass as an elegant gentleman, will I?’

  ‘Ay, but there’s not many of them to a bushel, and I’ve not seen one yet in these parts.’

  ‘What about food? There weren’t much to speak of in his larder, and I ate what there was.’

  ‘We shouldn’t delay to get food, and a day or so without food will do us no harm.’

  ‘You speak for yourself there, man. You ain’t half a Giant, and the hungry half at that.’

  Together they left the cottage; now cleared of all the food Frenk had stored to share with his son, and with his best cloak gone.

  With a shiver, Cavour wrapped his cloak around and bent his head to the bitter wind.

  ‘It’s mighty cold already, and a Giant don’t like the cold,’ muttered his companion as they set off to leave the valley behind them.

  Chapter 63 Esmere

  Esmere sat beside the Trytor, and she wondered what was coming. He was sitting beside her on his grand throne, but he looked agitated to her and he seemed to be having difficulty settling.

  'My Lord,' she said softly. 'Are we to eat? It seems a little early for lunch, and I've already broken my fast.'

  'No, we won't be eating just yet. Not at all. You don't like the food I eat, in any case.'

  'Then, although I am always happy to sit in your company, why am I here?'

  'Oh, you will see soon enough. In fact, they are here now, I believe.'

  There was some shuffling behind the half-opened door, and more than a little muttering, involving one or two, 'You go first' and several. 'but it ain't my turn', accompanied by the occasional round of, 'Shush, he'll hear.'

  When they eventually did emerge into the rulehall, it was clear that Harld had lost the confrontation, as he was in the lead.

  'My Lord Lydorth,'
he said, with a deep bow for emphasis. 'You called for us to come before you. I hope nothing is…awry?'

  'Closer, closer. I won't bite you; not today anyway.'

  Harld and Orther shuffled closer, with one pushing the other, and each push receiving a matching tug.

  At last they were before the throne.

  'I've asked you here because I want you to arrange a feast day in my honour.'

  'A feast day, my Lord?' asked Harld, after a nudge from Orther. 'What be that?'

  'There's to be food and music and…' The Trytor bent towards Esmere. 'What else should there be? We don't have many feast days in these parts.'

  'There should be dancing my Lord, and there should be cake. You can't have a proper feast without a good thick slice of cake.'

  'There you are, Harld. Dancing, music, food and cake. And spare no expense.'

  Harld looked at Orther, who merely shrugged and took half a step back in an 'I'm not involved' sort of way.

  'My Lord Lydorth; Mr Dryan normally sorts this sort of thing out, don't he? He knows where the money is, and he knows who to talk to and that, and we, we don't really know nothing about all that, do we Orther?'

  Orther scowled at being brought into the discussion, and then he shook his head. With a quick movement, he placed himself directly behind Harld.

  The Trytor sighed.

  'So, you think I should release him from the cells so he can organize the feast day?'

  'That sounds about right, my Lord. That's what he be good at, after all.'

  Lydorth stood up to his full height and glared down at the men.

  'Dryan will stay where he is and you two will organize a fine feast day for me, or you'll find yourselves locked up with him. Is that clear, or do I need to spend even more time explaining this to you?'

  Harld bobbed his head up and down as if someone had cut his strings, and muttered. 'Yes, my lord. Or, I mean no my Lord; beg your pardon and all, my Lord.'

  'Good. Now be off and leave me in peace.'

  They were as quick to leave as they were slow to arrive.

  Esmere smiled up at the Trytor. 'So, you intend you walk amongst your people once more, and cause them to show you due respect?'