“Secondly, we turned your charge away for the simple reason that his brother is no longer here. Disappeared in the middle of the night a couple of months ago. We haven’t seen or heard from him since. I am sorry, but that is the only help I can give you.”
His answers recited, the doorkeeper ended any further possible conversation by slamming home the door’s wooden plug. Nathan, both confused and disturbed, stood in the damp passageway for several long moments before turning to rejoin his friend on the other end of the causeway.
“I can’t understand it, Marcus,” he confided. “It’s just not like Jason to wander off like this. I’m at a loss to know where to begin looking for Thaddeus’ grandson!”
Marcus, a large man usually known for his equally large grin and booming voice, neither grinned nor boomed in response to his friend’s need. In the semi-darkness he laid a comforting hand on the bard’s shoulder and quietly offered, “I share your concern but it has grown too dark to search any further tonight. Let us return to my home where we can reflect on what has happened. ‘Twill do no good either walkin’ or worryin’. Who knows but that through a quieted shell the Gryphon might reveal the lad’s location. From my home, we can gather torches and support if we decide to organize a search. Besides, there’s no use in lettin’ Martha’s good home-cookin' spoil ‘cause the lad’s off wanderin’!”
Though a farmer by vocation, Marcus and his wife, Martha, were known far and wide among the followers of the Gryphon as “Warriors of the Shellbowl”. Viewed as counselors and confidants, the middle-aged couple had won respect as those whose reflections found true images and whose pleas found the Gryphon’s ear. Because of their example and leading, large interconnected networks of Swimmers had sprung up in many places. Through these, messages and needs could spread like wildfire across the Great Plain. One of the groups, led by white-haired Gideon, had been responsible for the previous rescue of the two bards.
Nathan, though greatly concerned about his ward, felt confident that if anything could be done for Jason, Marcus and Martha would help make it happen.
The couple’s home, which had once been a quaint farm cottage, had expanded over the years to accommodate, not a growing family (for they had remained childless), but rather the expanding community of Swimmer-reflectors who met there on a weekly basis.
Into their home came Nathan and his burden. Martha, without a word, brought them food and quietly sat it on the table next to their active shellbowls. The two men ate absentmindedly while they silently and intently stared at reflections in the candlelit dew.
After some time, Marcus raised his golden bowl as if in a toast to his friend and then reverently drained its contents. When he spoke, his words rang with confidence, as though someone had whispered verified secrets in his ear.
“The way I see it,” he told his friend, “(and I feel the Gryphon’s guidance in this), there are only three possibilities of what might have happened to young Jason. First, as the River priest suggested, he might’ve left the castle right after you did and taken off t’ try and find you. If that’s the case, he’ll wander around till he’s tired and then have t’ make camp on his own. From what you say, he has a well-fitted pack and is used t’ livin’ the bard’s life on the open road. If so, the worse that’ll happen is he’ll eat some cold food and have to sleep on some pretty damp ground. But all in all, he’ll only end up wiser from the ordeal.
“It’s the second and third possibilities that have me concerned. You’ve told me that you’ve had several recent run-ins with dragonmen. That blackrobe giant you met up on the Head puts me in mind of a young buck we’ve seen around here off and on. Nasty character! One of the Dragonlady’s private guards and not someone to be trifled with no matter how young he looks. If he or some of his henchmen found the lad wandering, then they probably tucked him into one of their dark hidey-holes real quick.”
“Those holes are all inter-connected, like rabbit warrens,” commented Nathan glumly. “I know, ‘cause I been down a few of them before, on rescue attempts! If Jason’s gone underground, we’re not likely to find him again unless the Gryphon intervenes in a mighty big way!”
“Don’t despair, my friend. What I described was the worse of the possibilities, but I don’t think it’s the most likely. If the blackrobes had been abroad, some of our networks would have spotted them and spread the word. Neither Martha nor I,” and he glanced over at his wife (who sat quietly nearby also reflecting) for confirmation before continuing, “have heard anything of them for several days now.”
“Well that’s good news, at least,” said the bard with obvious relief in his voice. “What’s the other possibility, then?”
“You’ve told me that the dark Queen has taken an interest in the boys. That interest might well have something t’ do with an ancient dragonman prophecy about two orphaned boys who will mark the rise or fall of all dragonkind. If that’s the case, then the blackrobes’ll want to get their hands on the full set. We must conclude that they’ve already gotten Thaddeus’ oldest grandson, Kaleb, in their clutches.”
“I’m afraid that’s true, from everything I know,” responded the bard in a voice choked with emotion.
“Then let us also assume that they’ve spread the word through all of their contacts that anyone capturing the younger brother would win her Highness’s everlasting gratitude...”
“And since Arden Nox,” interrupted Nathan, “is increasingly becoming a front for blackrobe activities…”
Martha had held her piece for the whole conversation while the “men-folk” talked, suddenly she broke in with a vengeance, unapologetically finishing Nathan’s words before he could express them himself, “Then he’s still in the school and the priest lied to you! Marcus, we’ve got to mobilize our network! I’ll hoist a signal lantern on the pole; you sound the horn! We’ve got to wake up the Valley!”
Martha’s last words were shouted over her shoulder as she ran for the cottage door.
“That’s why I love her!” said the oversized farmer with a proud smile in her direction. “But she’s right, we need to draw the Swimmers together as a united body. If the boy’s only off wanderin’ then no harm will come of it. If he’s being held prisoner at the school, then the dragonmen are probably already on their way here to get him. I’ll sound the horn and then come back in and do some more reflectin’. Before I storm that castle I want t’ know for sure what we’re up against!”
“What would I do without friends like you two? Thank you, Marcus, and thanks be to the Gryphon as well!”
~ ~ ~
Earlier that day, as soon as Jason had given his name and request to the impersonal hole in the door of Arden Nox College, the man on the other side underwent a rapid transformation. No longer gruff and condescending, the green-robed priest swung open one of the heavy doors and smiling, welcomed Jason in as though he were long lost family.
“You are correct in thinking that your brother is not here at the present, but he is close by and I will send for him immediately. I know he will be so glad to see you! In the meantime, I will escort you to his cell (that’s what we call the small bedrooms here at the college). You can wait there for him until he returns. While you wait, I will have something sent for you to eat.”
Having invited the young bard to enter, the priest, adorned with a bowl haircut with a deliberate bald circle on the top, then swung shut the massive portal and secured it with a heavy bolt of polished scaline. The metal clanged into place with all of the finality of a sprung trap, yet Jason did not notice: soon he would see Kaleb again! Absently, he noted that the inside of the school seemed in much better repair than its exterior, but the priest only afforded him the briefest of looks.
A short while later the door suddenly sprung open and the same priest walked urgently into the cell.
“Please come with me quickly,” he adjoined his guest, “I am on duty and must return to my station at the main door as soon as possible, in case we receive any other visitors.”
“You can have a seat here and catch your breath,” offered the priest indicating the chair. “As I said, your brother will be notified and a meal will be brought to you.”
“Thank you for your service, sir, but I will not be able to stay too long. My master is expecting to meet me outside your gate before the time for the evening meal.”
At first, Jason thought he saw a brief frown pass over the priest’s face, but then the momentary lapse disappeared behind an exact copy of the smile he had been wearing before. “That will not be a problem,” he promised the young bard. “Stay here and you will be taken care of shortly.”
Jason, seated on the chair and lost in thoughts of his brother, did not realize that the door to the cell was being shut until it banged loudly against the stone. Before he could react, he also heard the sound of a bolt being set on the outside of the door.
“Hey, what are you doing?” he called out, jumping up toward the thick wooden barrier. As he gazed out of its small, head-high barred opening, he locked eyes with those of his guide turned captor. Reflected in those eyes he finally saw the fearful truth of his situation.
“I am sorry to have deceived you, young bard,” said the priest, his smile replaced with an embarrassed frown and his once friendly voice now filled with apology. “But I have been given the strictest orders to retain you if you ever came here. I did not lie, however, when I told you that your brother will be notified and you will be fed.” So saying the man spun on his heels to speed once more back toward his vacant post at the door.
“Orders from whom?” Jason called after the sound of retreating footsteps.
“I’m sorry!” came the distant reply echoing through the stone hallway.
Jason, leaning against the door, stood as still as a piece of furniture for a long time as he mused on his current predicament. He could make no sense of what had happened. His mind overflowed with questions to which his heart had no answers.
“Why am I being held here?” he called out at last to the unresponsive room. “Where is Kaleb and why is he not here? Is he with the dragonmen like those blackrobes said? What will happen when I don’t meet Nathan in time? What is going to happen to me?”
The more he pondered and wracked his brain, the more he realized he simply had no answers to any of the questions.
For a while, he paced back and forth like a freshly caged wild animal but then muted sounds coming from the doorway arrested his motion and captured his attention. He returned to the sealed portal where he stood quietly with his ear turned toward the opening and a hand gripping each of the two cold metal bars.
He need not have strained to hear for the constant rattle of background noise had permeated the building since his arrival, he had just been too distracted to focus on it. Now, actually hearing it for the first time, he found that it reminded him of a muted version of the noise of the harbor market of Mann’s Pointe. Added to that clatter were snatches of discordant group chanting coming from several directions within the school.
Since he had started training in earnest to become a professional bard, his ear for music had improved and been fine-tuned like a costly instrument. The tortured vocal iterations of the students of Arden Nox resembled music like a cold scaline boulder resembled the delicate grace of a living wildflower. How can someone reflect with that constant barrage of noise? He wondered, then answered his own question. Maybe the very purpose of all the noise is to deliberately prevent any reflection!
Out through his limited window on his new world, he discovered splashes of garish colors covering the spaces between the doorways on the opposite walls. The light in the passageway was far from bright but, on closer examination, he recognized their source as several elaborate tapestries depicting the works of man. The bright colors caught his eye but did little to soothe his aching heart.
Kaleb must have hated it here, he thought sadly.
Later the promised meal arrived. Although the steaming food smelled tempting, he opted instead to dine on the cold rations stored in his own pack. He would not trust these priests again.
Haunted by unanswered questions Jason spent a tortured night locked in his brother’s cell.
Finally, in the early hours before dawn, he fell into a fitful and restless sleep. His dreams that night were filled with images of his brother. He saw him sleeping, trapped deep inside the bowels of the Dragon. To his horror, he saw a huge and sinister shadow stalking that defenseless form. Then, while he helplessly watched, the shadow drew close and wrapped itself around his brother. In spite of its apparent bulk, the black mass disappeared within the sleeping form.
Jason awoke screaming. As he lay in the sunless room, he could not help but fear that he had seen a real event and that Kaleb was in grave danger.
A slight trembling in his Gryphonskin caught him off guard. The more he thought about its possible cause, the more he realized that it had very little to do with his brother and much to do with himself.
What should I be doing? Jason pondered to himself. I’m locked in this prison! I can’t even help myself, let alone do anything about helpin’ Kaleb!
But then, like a candle lit in a darkened room, a new thought chased away the shadows that had clouded his mind.
Just because the noise in this place makes it hard to reflect, he realized, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be trying to do so anyhow. It just might work. All I’ve got is day-old dew in my ‘skin. But that’ll have to do. The Gryphon knows I won’t find any pure water in here. Those River Watcher priests sure aren’t gonna’ be growing any catcher plants in this dark dungeon!
What’s this? How can this be? My Gryphonskin is fuller than it was last night.
I wonder? Yes, the dew is fresh and sweet! So Your eagles can even fly through scaline blocks and bars to do Your bidding!
I can barely see in here. The only light’s comin’ through that tiny window in the door. I’ll stand near there and see what I can see…
That’s a strange image – a large thorntree growing on the banks of the River with a dewcatcher plant growing right next to it! Never saw one of the dew plants so close to the Dragon’s poison before.
Wait, the reflection’s changing. Looks like a great wind is starting to blow. Oh my, the catcher’s bending over and spilling its dew into the River.
What? I never would have believed it! The River retreated from the dew, pulled back like someone who’d got too close to a fire and burned their fingers!
Now that’s really strange – after the dew spilled out, the thorntree just withered up and died.
Hold on. The image is changing again. Now it’s showing me standing in this room. Well, I might have known. The room’s full of flying shadows… And look, Someone else is here Who’s not a Shadow at all!
“This is a place of fear, Mighty Gryphon,” admitting the terror that had chained him throughout the night, weakened those awful fetters and lifted much of their weight. The young bard spoke his words out loud to the Someone he now knew shared his cell. “The very walls are damp with its essence. The constant murmur around me is nothing but the whispers of Your enemy telling me ‘Be afraid! Feel sorry for yourself! Worry about your brother!’
“Yet I had forgotten the promise You gave me that You would always be with me wherever I went. The fact that I am here is no surprise to You, is it? I call myself a Swimmer (and You have helped me rest upon the dark waters to prove it), but now I see that I must rest upon You even when I walk on dry land! Forgive me, faithful Gryphon! If my future is to be hidden under Your paw, then how much more am I? If I am truly resting and I am actively hiding in You, then all the Darkness in the Dragon’s kingdom cannot touch me in Your Light! Thank You!”
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Then, like the sailors’ wind that drives the boats across the Bay, the joy of the Gryphonsbreath swept down on a prisoner set suddenly free. Propelled out through the still-barred door, his sweet song of praise and prayer filled the dark halls of Arden Nox. And all those of the green robe who heard its notes stopped and wondered and knew for an instant the utter futility and dismal falseness of their own poor song.
For the Gryphon I waited patiently;
Then He leaned closer unto me,
Paying attention unto my cry.
He brought me out from destruction’s pit;
From the miry clay, lifting me out of it,
Setting my feet where it is dry.
On a solid rock, He established my ways
And gave me a new song filled with His praise.
That new song spread among the throng;
Many shall see with reverential fear
Shall turn and bow, trust and draw near,
When He fills my mouth with Gryphonsong!
Be pleased, O Sovereign, to deliver me!
O Gryphon, make haste to set me free!
All those who seek my soul confound!
But let all who seek Thee be glad and rejoice:
Let those who love salvation, in your Name rejoice,
Magnify Thee, Your praise resound! 10
~ ~ ~
During the night Nathan returned once more to raise the mallet against the massive wooden doors of Arden Nox. Again he asked politely, but firmly to see Jason. However, this time in response, several hostile priests emerged from behind the door. The flickering torchlight coming through the open doorway revealed that each of them was armed with both a sharpened scaline sword and a large blackened thorn.
One of the green-robed men stepped forward bringing the point of his raised thorn within a handsbreadth of Nathan’s chest.
“Bard,” snarled the man in a most unpriestly fashion, “you were given our answer when you came here before. We have nothing else to tell you, except for this: we simply will not allow live Swimmers on these premises. We find your kind simply too disruptive and so you have been forever banned. So that you might know how seriously we abide by that cardinal rule, I will point out something to you. Perhaps you noticed the slits in the walls to your left and right as you entered? Each of them has eyes and teeth, so to speak. For your own safety, I suggest that you do not try to take advantage of our well-appointed hospitality. You can believe me when I tell you that it would not be to a Swimmer’s taste. Rather, I strongly suggest that you turn around and return the way you came!”
The Dragon's Back Trilogy Page 38