Whistler [A sequel to The Chronicles of Hawklan]

by Roger Taylor

  As he drew nearer, the anger which had been kindled by the sight of the novices filling the entrance hall flared up, for the door of the Debating Hall was half-open, and the din escaping through it put their noise to shame.

  Grim-faced, Vredech entered silently and watched what was happening for a few moments. As the novice had told him, almost half the Chapter was assembled, but disorder appeared to be reigning. Mueran was seated at the head of the table and periodically slapped it, trying to be heard. He did not look well. On one side of him sat Horld, his face clouded and ominous, and on the other sat Morem, patently distressed. Of the others, nearly all seemed to be talking at the same time, some to each other, some to everyone else. Four of them were standing and gesticulating towards Mueran, whose table-slapping was having no effect whatsoever.

  Vredech's anger tilted momentarily toward despair as he saw the leaders of his church in such disarray. Like any group of people who shared responsibility for the running of an institution, they suffered from internecine quarrels from time to time, sometimes difficult and unpleasant, but this...

  His anger returned, redoubled.

  Opening the door wide, he slammed it violently. The sound filled the room and brought all eyes round to him. He strode forward. ‘In the name of mercy,’ he said furiously, ‘the sound of your squabbling is filling the entire building. I've just rebuked half our novices for making a tenth the clamour that's being raised here.'

  Before anyone could reply, he turned to Mueran.

  'My apologies, Brother Mueran,’ he said. ‘I shouldn't have spoken thus, but ...’ He gave a despairing shrug.

  Mueran nodded and motioned him to his chair, untypically allowing his gratitude to show in his expression. Vredech's intervention had given him the respite he needed to restore his authority. ‘We've all been badly shaken by what's happened, Brother,’ he said, raising a hand to silence two would-be speakers and firmly indicating that those who were standing should sit. He turned his remarks towards the gathering in general. ‘A little confusion in our proceedings is perhaps inevitable. However,’ he was completely in control again now, ‘Brother Vredech's reproach was both timely and correct. Nothing is to be served by our bellowing at one another.'

  A figure at the far end of the table jumped to its feet. ‘But Brother Mueran, I insist ...'

  'SIT DOWN AND BE SILENT!’ Mueran's voice made even Vredech start, reminding him that this vacillating and hypocritical man had reputedly once been quite ruthless in his ambition, a much-feared figure within the Church. ‘This meeting may have been called in unusual circumstances, but it will be conducted correctly.’ He turned over some papers in front of him though Vredech noticed that his eyes were not looking at them. ‘Two days ago ...'

  Briefly the true man broke through. ‘Was it only two days?’ he said softly, shaking his head in disbelief. Then he was the Covenant Member again. ‘Two days ago it was put to me that a Chapter Meeting be called to examine the deplorable conduct of Brother Cassraw.'

  'No!’ several voices cried out.

  'Be silent!’ Mueran shouted. ‘Or this meeting will turn its attention to your own disruptive behaviour. This is not a debate!’ His authority held, but only just. ‘It needs no great study of our church canons to know that Brother Cassraw has preached two outrageous and quite unacceptable sermons of late. He has wilfully strayed into secular areas that ...'

  The opposition broke out again, several voices speaking at once.

  'No! Secular and spiritual are one. To speak otherwise is heresy.'

  'Brother Cassraw has been chosen to renew the church, to root out hypocrites and hair-splitting theologians who seek only after their own aggrandizement.'

  'He has been shown the truths in the Santyth!'

  'He has been given powers.'

  'He and his Knights have already saved the country!'

  Mueran's hand was dithering over the table, this time not even having the decisiveness to slap it. He looked utterly lost. The brief resurgence of the younger, stronger man was gone. Unexpectedly, Vredech felt a wave of compassion for Mueran, watching his life's ambitions and struggles turning to dross before him. He felt torn. He could intervene as he had before and take control of the meeting. Horld and Morem would support him, he was sure—Horld himself, he could see, was on the verge of doing something anyway. But that would effectively destroy Mueran's position, and what would be the consequences of that?

  Yet to allow this riot to continue would be worse. Looking at the clamouring faces he saw what had happened. Mueran had been able to call only those Brothers with parishes in and around Troidmallos—the very ones that Cassraw must have been most assiduously working on.

  He was preparing himself to bellow through the turmoil, when he noticed the door opening. A head emerged round it sheepishly. It caught Vredech's eye.

  He released his bellow. ‘Yes, what is it?'

  As before, his voice silenced the gathering and drew all eyes first to him, and then to the novice who was hovering at the door.

  'I'm sorry to disturb you, Brothers,’ quavered the novice, ‘but I think you should see what's happening outside.'

  Both Vredech and Horld stood up immediately, Vredech mouthing to Mueran that he should suspend the meeting and motioning him to follow them. As the Chapter moved through the building following their unexpected guide, it collected most of the novices that Vredech had dismissed earlier. Some of these were in a state of high excitement. Vredech glanced at Mueran in the hope that he might enforce his own earlier command, but it needed no great skill in the reading of character to see that Mueran was capable only of following events now.

  At the gate of the Witness House grounds the assembled Brothers found themselves witness to a ragged procession of people trailing up the mountain. For a moment they stood and gaped in silence, then Vredech stepped forward.

  'Where are you going?’ he demanded loudly.

  One of the passers-by turned and smiled at him, but his eyes were distant. ‘To the summit, Brother. To Brother Cassraw's service of thanksgiving for the saving of our land from the Great Evil.'

  'And to worship at the place where Ishryth appeared to Brother Cassraw and chose him as His voice in this world,’ said another.

  'Thus let it be.’ The voice came from behind Vredech. As he turned, one of the Chapter Brothers pushed past him. ‘Praise be,’ he said. ‘I shall walk with you, my children. To the One True Light.'

  Two others joined him. Cries of ‘Praise be, praise be,’ rang out from the passing crowd. Then something seized Vredech's arm. He was so angry and fearful at what he was watching, that his clenched fist was raised as he whirled round to see what it was. He found himself staring into Mueran's gasping face, then he was supporting him as he collapsed.

  'Stand back, stand back. Lay him down gently.'

  Morem had moved quickly to Vredech's side and was helping to lower the sagging frame of the Covenant Brother on to the stone pathway. His face was concerned as he began loosening the garments about Mueran's neck.

  'What's the matter?’ Vredech asked anxiously.

  Morem, his head bent against Mueran's chest, beckoned for silence. ‘I don't know,’ he said. ‘It might be his heart, or perhaps blood to the head, I can't tell.'

  'It's the will of Ishryth,’ said one of the Brothers, his eyes wide and fearful. ‘He has been struck down because of his denial of the truth of Brother Cassraw's revelation.’ He made to push by the group around Mueran's prostrate form with a view to joining the crowd. As he did so, Vredech seized hold of the front of his cassock, swung him round and struck him a powerful blow on the chin. The man went sprawling out of the gate and into the crowd, knocking two people over and scattering several others. He was quickly hoisted to his feet, but was staggering badly as the crowd carried him along.

  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 in my 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 dark 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?'