by J Battle
'Sam, Tom and Gorge; sitting in a tree, t.a.l.k.i.n.g.'
Sam frowned as he spelled the word out in his head, trying not to move his lips. Then he smiled.
'Pass us the pipe, will you Gorge? Leave something for us too.'
'There you go.' Gorge handed the pipe over to Tom.
'We've not been here since those two men passed, have we Tom?'
'No Sam, you're right there.' He took a draw on his pipe, his eyes watching Gorge as he stared off into the distance.
'You're not saying much there, Gorge,' he said, slowly.
'Ay, right enough. With you about, there's hardly a spare word left for anyone else.'
'No, it's something else. You've been quiet since Sam showed what a Mage he was.'
'I ain't a Mage; not now and not never. I didn't like it at all, and I'll tell you that and hardly charge you a penny.'
'Just joking Sam, so's there's no harm done, is there?'
'The Lady, she wants me to use the Wellstone to make the dam stronger, she does, and I don't want to, but Mr Evens, I reckon he told her I could. He told me the words and all, but I don't want to, 'cause I don't like to touch the Stone, and I don't want to touch it again, I don't.'
'Don't you worry now, Sam. But, if the lady says you're to do it, then, you must, 'cause she knows what's best. Don't she, Gorge?'
'I...guess so, but if Sam don't want to do it, he shouldn’t be made to.'
‘The Lady, she won’t make him. She’ll just talk to him nice like, and then he’ll be happy to do.’
‘No she won’t, though she don’t half talk nice, she does. But I ain’t goin to do it, no matter what nice words she uses.’
‘Well, that may be so, Sam, or it mayn’t. We shall just see, won’t we Gorge?’
‘Sorry? I missed what you said there, Tom.’
‘Ay, I can see you’re not really here. You’ve got something on your mind; I can see that.’
‘No, Tom, I’m just tired. I been up all night reading them books of the Mage and…I’m just tired.’
‘I seen you walking along with them books, and I thought to myself, there’s something funny going on there, with old Gorge scurrying along with them books clutched to his chest and looking over his shoulder to see if he’s been followed like, and that’s the truthful truth.’
‘No, I was just in a rush to get home, in case Dan the Man locks me out again.’
‘Now, Sam, did you hear that?’
‘What?’
‘Old Gorge here, he just told us an almighty lie; sure he did. But you can’t fool a fooler, as Dan the Man always says, and I can see the lie.’
‘You’re just imagining it, you are. I’ve no need to be lying to you, and ain’t it time for you to be off to see your darling Julienne?’
‘Sounds like changing the subject to me, but you’re right, I need to be off about my business. But don’t think I won’t have the truth of this out of you soon enough. You can put a wager on that and call it won.’
Tom tossed the pipe to Gorge and began to crawl out of the tree-house.
‘You best come with me, Sam. I reckon The Lady will be wanting to speak to you before the sun takes itself to bed.’
Sam sighed and eyed the pipe in Gorge’s hand.
‘You’re right, I suppose. I better go and see her, like. Do you reckon she’ll have some supper for me? It’s getting close to supper time, I think.’
‘Only if them there Giants have left her something to eat, for they sure can eat. I thought you could eat, Sam, but you couldn’t hold a candle in a rainstorm compared to them.’
‘Mayhap there’ll be a sausage, or a lump of cheese, or a heel of a loaf that they missed?’
‘You can live in hope, Sam. You can only live in hope.’
The pair of them were out of the tree and safe on the ground as quickly as you could say it, leaving Gorge to his pipe and his thoughts.
‘You can only hope,’ he thought, and mayhap there was something for Tom and Sam to hope for.
But what about him?
He crawled to the edge of the tree-house and settled himself down with his legs hanging and his shoulder against a support.
From here he could see up the valley and beyond. He could see the mountains in the north, and God’s Saddle at the head of the valley. Both sights were new to him, now that the mist wall had failed and been blown away by the fierce wind from the north.
He shuddered, and it was more than just the cold.
There was a change coming to the valley, and it would affect everyone who lived there, and even those who spent most of their time in Hesselton.
The cold wind was here to stay, and the snow wouldn’t be far behind. The second season crops were still in the ground, and they'd better be got out of the ground sooner rather than later, for there wouldn’t be a third crop this year, and who knew if there’d be even a single crop next year?
He drew on his pipe and closed his eyes. For a moment, he could pretend that it was still spring and the muti-coloured Mist Wall held fast, protecting the folk from the prying eyes of strangers and monsters, and he could still make plans, about his boat, and mayhap Sam would help him like he said he would, and everything would be fine. As long he didn’t open his eyes, he could hold on to those thoughts.
Then the tree-house began to shake as the wind rose, and there was a howling in the distance, but that was just the wind, he told himself, because there hadn’t been wolves in these parts for centuries.
He opened his eyes, but he didn’t see the mountains, or God’s Saddle. He barely noticed the branches as he climbed down to the ground.
He knew what he had to do, and if you asked him straight, and if he was of a mood to answer you, he might say that it was something he really didn’t want to do, not if there was anyone else who might come along and say, ‘I’ll just do it for you, Gorge, if that’s alright with you.’
But who else was there? Mr Evens was fair worn away, the Lady was needed here in the valley, and it wouldn’t be right anyway to put her at risk. Tom was busy with Julienne, and Sam was frightened of Mr Evens’ poor aged Stone.
So, that just left him, and he had the map, and he’d learned all the phrases, and memorised all of Anders’ notes. So, he was the man for the job, and he would see 16 summers this year, and he was no longer a child.
All he really needed was the courage to take the first step.
Chapter 67 Richard
Richard put the tankards on the bar and noticed that his hands were shaking.
Could it really be that, after all this time, The Trytor would leave the safety of his cave and expose himself once more to his people?
That was the gossip he was listening to, of a feast day to celebrate the Lord Trytor, last of his line, and about to walk amongst the human populace of the town.
He'd waited a full year for this day, but was he really ready? This time there would be no trickery or master-plans; no chance to prepare the ground in advance. This time it would be the strength of his arm and the sharpness of his sword that would be required to carry the day.
He turned from the bar and made his way into the back room, being sure to close the door behind him.
As he made his way to the stairs, he straightened his back a little. He was a big man, and still as strong as he'd always been, despite the way his belly had grown and his complexion reddened.
Just over a year ago, now, he had come to this town and bought himself this tavern, so he could be close to the last of the Trytor, and be ready for when he showed his ugly face.
At the top of the stairs he paused for a moment and flexed the long fingers of his right hand. Then he stepped into his bedroom and pulled his scabbard from the hook by the window.
If he bent his knees a little, he'd be able to see the great doors at the entrance to the Trytor's cave. But he was preoccupied for the moment with his sword.
It was his most prized possession; not for the excellence of the forging of its bright sharp blade, or the
complex form of its hilt and guard, or for the gold embossed scabbard itself.
No; what made it special was a simple, dull brown sliver of rock embedded in its hilt. A tiny piece of Wellstone, that seemed to glow as he examined it.
With a grunt, he gripped the hilt in his right hand and withdrew it from the scabbard with a quick swish.
He closed his eyes for a moment as he felt the Stone seek him out and begin to feed, and he whispered the words the Mage had taught him. The pain was sharp and quick and clean, and over almost before it had begun.
He moved to the middle of the room and began to swing the sword, slowly at first, from side to side. Then the swings became loops as he spun within the circles the sword made above his head.
He could feel the Stone giving back the strength it had taken from him, and with more beside.
The sword became light in his hands and his movements became faster, until each stroke of the blade was little more than a blur.
At last he stopped, with his chest and belly heaving, and his short-cropped hair glistening with sweat.
He took a deep breath, and then he nodded.
He had the answer to his question.
He was ready, for he was once again Lord Richard Ellendell of Hesselton and Misthaven; slayer of two Trytor already, and the last Trytor was surely doomed.
*********
Esmere watched him stride across the rulehall, for all the world as if he was doing nothing more than he did every day. If he was nervous or worried at all about walking out in the world, it wasn't obvious to her.
As soon as the door closed behind him, she was out of her seat and rushing down the stairs, past the kitchens and the storerooms, down into the depths of the cave system, to the dungeons.
'Father!' she gasped as she rushed into the ill-lit, ill-smelling place. 'We have to be quick. He's gone out, but I don't know how long he'll be!'
'Esmere! We've waited so long for you to come.'
It was her father's voice of course, but so hoarse and weak, she barely recognised his words.
'I have to get you out of here before he comes back. Where does he keep the key?'
'He keeps it in his bedroom, on a shelf near the fireplace. A big bunch of keys. Go and get it now.'
'I'll be right back.'
Then she was gone, leaving her father leaning against the bars of his cage.
'Are you ready, Garraldi?' he croaked, after a moment.
There was a stir in the dark cell across from him, and his fellow prisoner emerged.
'Ready?'
'Ready for freedom, of course.'
'Well now, I've been here a while, and it hasn't killed me yet. But an escape attempt? That will surely get a person killed.'
'We'll not leave you behind, Garraldi. You're coming with us, and that's a fact.'
Garraldi sighed, as if he’d seen all this play out already and knew how it would end.
'Let's say, if you get out of your cage, and the front door is still open, then I'll be glad to join you in this folly.'
'The alternative is to stay here and wait for death.'
'Ah now, Dryan, death awaits us all, does it not?'
There was a noise and a jangle on the stairs, and then Esmere burst into view, with a torch in one hand and the keys in the other.
She held up the keys, and her smile was as bright as the flames of the torch to her father.
'Which one is it, Pa?' she asked.
'I think you'll find that the key you want is this one, here in my hand,' came the gloating voice from the stairway.
Esmere dropped the keys and gasped as she turned and saw the smiling face of the Trytor above her.
Chapter 68 Fleur
‘It’s cold!’
She would have stopped at the door to reconsider the wisdom of stepping out into the night in nothing but her bedclothes and a thin gown, but her legs still seemed to have their own will, and there was naught to be done but go along with them.
‘You’ll be warm when you’re settled.’
She was halfway across the narrow strip of green grass that was all that was left of the rich gardens that had once surrounded the palace, and the light from the moon made the tangleweed appear even more threatening than it did in full daylight.
‘I can’t go in there, I’ll be ripped to bits by the thorns.’
‘Not if you crawl. The thorns are scarce below a height of two feet.’
Fleur stopped on the edge of the tangleweed that towered above her, all shadows and spikes.
With a groan, she lowered her heavy body to her knees.
Her belly was so distended that it was brushing against the damp grass. How had she grown so big so quickly? A week past it had been hardly a bump, or so it seemed to her.
‘Move.’
She obeyed without a thought, crawling into the sharp smelling depths of the tangleweed, dragging the chest behind her. She winced and jerked herself sideways as a thorn tore her ear, but she kept moving.
When she was five or six feet inside the tangleweed she stopped, and lowered her head against her shoulder.
‘Why have you stopped? We are not yet safe.’
‘I…I’m tired. This is hard work. You are…very heavy.’
‘Keep going.’
As she moved on, the roots that supported the clawing mass of the tangleweed grew thicker and closer together. It became harder to find a passage between them and the chest kept getting stuck.
‘I can’t go any further. There isn’t any room!’
‘Then this will have to do. Settle your back against the root there, and stretch out your legs. Place the chest on your thighs and take out the Stone.’
‘But…’
‘It is fed. It will not hurt you. Surely you understand this.’
‘I don’t understand nothing of what’s happening, I don’t.’
‘Then just do as I say.’
She followed the instructions but hesitated with the chest open in her lap. The Stone looked quiet; just like any other stone.
‘Pick it up.’
‘Why? Why should I? I don’t want to.’
‘It is necessary.’
She clenched her fists and forced them behind her back. They’d started to reach for the Stone without any decision on her part.
‘Why is it necessary? I’m not doing nothing until you tell me what’s happening.’
‘You expect to carry me for another three months before you give birth, but we cannot wait that long. Not at all. We have to be ready, and it has to be much sooner.’
‘But why? Why can’t we wait our own sweet time and you can come when the time is right.’
‘You don’t understand. They are on their way, and we must be ready.’
‘Who are on their way?’
‘The Elvenfolk of course.’
‘What do I care of such creatures? If they even exist.’
‘They exist and they will be here soon, and we must be in a position to defend ourselves.’
‘Defend ourselves? I am but a woman, and you are…you are no more than a child!’
‘Take the Stone and rest it on your belly.’
‘I…’ She stopped speaking, for what else was there to say? She either went along with the instructions, or… well, what else could she do?
With a sigh, she moved her hands and placed them on the cool hard surface of the Stone. She picked it up and placed it against her belly just as instructed.
For a second nothing happened and she was just holding a cold hard rock. Then its colour changed and, whatever else she didn’t know about the baby she was carrying, she knew one fact for certain; her child was capable of lies.
As the Stone burned in her hands, and the stench of burning flesh assaulted her, she opened her mouth in a silent scream that seemed endless and unquenchable.
Book IV
‘When the time of Magic ends, then the First Men shall return.’
Chapter 69 Sam
‘I don’t know,’ he s
aid, with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched.
Alice merely smiled; there was no need for words.
‘But…’ He turned away from the wall, trying to ignore Tom’s smile.
‘You’ve got the words, Sam. And, if you forget, I know ‘em right enough.’
Sam felt the weight of the bag on his shoulders, and the weight of the Lady’s expectations weighed even heavier. He should have left it with the old Mage, and mayhap gone along with Gorge to wherever he was off to, with his silent and stern face.
He turned back to the wall and studied the water flowing down between the cracks. In the two days since he’d spoken at the Townhall, it had got worse. Whatever the Lady and the Giants had done to restrict the water flowing into the reservoir had so far shown no effect.
It was surely only a matter of time before the dam was breached and the rushing water had its way with the poor town below. Something had to be done, and it had better be soon.
‘Well, Sam?’ Her voice was soft and sweet, as if she was no more than asking him the time of the day.
He looked at her warm gentle eyes, and he knew that he’d never be able to say no to her; not in the least of things, and not in this either.
‘I knows the words, Tom. The Mage learned them to me well enough.’
‘Ay, I knew you would there, Sam. I knew you would.’ Tom smiled to show that he could have said so much more.
Sam closed his eyes for a moment as he searched for a little extra strength. Then he lowered the bag to the damp ground and began to undo the fastenings.
With the dull brown of the Wellstone revealed, he sat back on his haunches and mouthed the ancient words that would bend the Stone to his will; making sure that he had them in the right order in his head.
‘I’m not right sure what to do,’ he said, as he placed his hands on the already warm Stone.
He gasped as the Stone fed on him; much fiercer than it had before. The Stone knew him now and mayhap had grown a taste for his energy. With the pain in his eyes he sought those of the Lady, but she looked away.