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City of Pearl

Page 11

by Alys Clare


  ‘Laudable,’ Hrype murmured. He fell silent, watching Jack’s face, then said, ‘No use searching for them at Aelf Fen and on the burned-out ruins on Mercure’s island, however. You won’t find them in either location.’

  ‘You know where they are, then?’ Jack said, furious with himself at the eagerness in his voice.

  There was another, even longer pause. Then Hrype said heavily, ‘He has taken her away. They have gone by sea to Spain.’

  Jack knew it was the truth. For one thing, why should Hrype have sought him out simply to lie to him? For another, it was in fact no great surprise, since somehow he had already known that Lassair was far away and out of his reach. He thought of the dangers of travel, of the long sea voyage, of the worsening weather. Slowly he shook his head. ‘Why?’ he said softly. ‘Why has he taken her on such a risky venture?’

  ‘More risky, more perilous, than you can understand,’ Hrype replied angrily – although Jack knew the anger was not for him – ‘unless you know much more than I would imagine about what is happening in Spain.’

  ‘I know people regularly go on pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela,’ Jack replied. ‘That some take the short crossing and travel over land, others go by sea to the north coast of Spain. I know the route is long and arduous, whichever method is selected.’

  Hrype shook his head. ‘They have not gone as pilgrims. The reasons are buried deep in Gurdyman’s past, and as yet I am not entirely clear as to the full story. However,’ he pressed on before Jack could question him, ‘the peril I refer to has nothing to do with the pilgrim roads, which are presumably no more or less dangerous than they have always been. But there is war across the land, for the Christian armies have at last united and they are driving out the invaders.’

  ‘The invaders?’ Jack tried to pull together what sparse facts he knew. ‘The Muslims from the south?’

  ‘Yes, the Moors,’ Hrype said, clearly trying not to show his impatience. ‘Their presence originated centuries back, when the leader of one of the indigenous tribes fighting among themselves made the mistake of calling in Arab mercenaries from North Africa to help him out. They fought far too well, however, and soon they were so powerful that they drove the defenders as far north as the Pyrenees, even beyond, before finally they were halted. After that they contented themselves with the land to the south of the mountains, which they largely made their own and which became, under their rule, a great Muslim civilization, its capital cities the sparkling jewels of the world. The Moors prize learning and wisdom, and believe it is every man’s duty to share his knowledge. Scholars are honoured, as are those whose talents are in their hands and their creative skills: the craftsmen who work in leather, precious metals, fine cloths. Theirs is a beautiful world.’ He sighed.

  ‘You sound as if you have been there,’ Jack said.

  Hrype glanced at him. ‘I have.’ It seemed to Jack that he was about to say more, but he stopped himself. Instead he said, ‘The attempted reconquest, however, began almost as soon as the Muslims settled themselves in.’ He spoke hurriedly, as if eager to forestall any questions about his own time in the southern land. ‘The fighting has continued over the decades and the centuries, and both sides have advanced and retreated. The main problem of the Christian armies is that there are far too many differences of opinion over how best to achieve their purpose, as well as an over-reliance on paid soldiers who will fight for whoever is the most open-handed and who have little or no commitment to the cause. Nevertheless, ultimately they will win; they are already winning, for their fervour has been steadily increasing and it has introduced a new spirit of aggressiveness which is overcoming the natural tendency of the Christian armies to squabble amongst themselves.’

  ‘They are uniting in the face of their common enemy,’ Jack observed.

  ‘They are,’ Hrype agreed, ‘which of course is what they should have done in the first place. But the trouble is that men’s hearts appear to be divided over whether or not the reconquest is to be desired, for many Christian rulers have learned to appreciate the mixed culture of the south, where a man’s faith is respected as his own business and the desire is for a life lived in harmony, where there is room for all to learn and grow. They—’

  ‘But you just said there is war across the land,’ Jack interrupted impatiently. He did not want to hear the details of life in this faraway land; he wanted to understand the dangers to Gurdyman and Lassair.

  Especially Lassair.

  ‘Yes,’ Hrype said quietly. ‘Yes, I did.’ He paused, clearly thinking, then said, ‘In brief, a few years back there was a powerful advance of the Christian forces, which led immediately to the arrival of a new wave of militants from North Africa determined to reverse those advances, which they did, only that led to renewed efforts by the armies of the north, so that the Christians are now pushing the Moors back again.’ He met Jack’s eyes. ‘It is no place for a girl and an old man,’ he said.

  ‘But why are they there? What in God’s name does Gurdyman think he’s doing?’ Wanting to shout it out but constrained by the heavy presence of the castle bearing down upon him, the words emerged in a suppressed hiss.

  Hrype looked at him, an expression of commiseration on his face. ‘Well may you ask,’ he muttered. ‘As indeed I have been asking myself.’ He paused, and his eyes fixed on Jack narrowed. ‘It was not my original intention to speak to you of this,’ he said abruptly, ‘for I considered it none of your business.’

  ‘But—’

  With a sharp look, Hrype stopped the protest before Jack could utter it.

  ‘In addition,’ Hrype went on, ‘I have repeatedly asked myself why I am so concerned for Lassair, since far too often she has been like the prickle of a thorn in the sole of my shoe.’ Sensing Jack’s intent gaze, he looked up. ‘What took me years of hard work and sacrifice always came so easily to her,’ he said baldly. ‘In short, I resented her. I’m not proud, but there it is.’

  There was a brief silence.

  ‘But I am tormented with the thought that Gurdyman may have taken her into danger,’ he went on. ‘You are too, and so here I am, sharing what little I know with you.’

  The silence was longer this time.

  Then: ‘You said it was to do with Gurdyman’s past?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Yes, yes, I did.’ Hrype sighed. ‘But much of what I suspect is guesswork, for he keeps his past a secret and he has drawn a heavy veil across it, so that even with the aid of—’ He stopped abruptly, and his expression suggested he had already said too much.

  ‘With the aid of your own special ways of looking into the mind and heart of another, you cannot penetrate his defences?’ Jack suggested quietly.

  Hrype looked at him but did not speak.

  ‘Well, even if you don’t know the details, you seem to recognize the danger,’ Jack went on. ‘And again I ask: why did he take her with him?’

  ‘If I am right,’ Hrype said, ‘then Gurdyman has been waiting a very long time for this moment, for the task he sets out to do has its roots in the far past; at a time when he was a young man in Moorish Spain and learned his craft.’

  ‘His craft.’ Jack repeated the words dully. He had a feeling of foreboding, for they could only mean one thing. ‘When he acquired the information and the skills that force him to do his work hidden away in a crypt deep in the ground.’

  ‘The fact that this work must remain hidden does not in itself mean it is evil or wrong,’ Hrype said gently, ‘merely that it is open to misinterpretation; that its practitioners are men – and women – feared and shunned by ordinary people. But very often the acquisition of new knowledge is with the intention of doing good. For example, when he—’

  Jack had no wish to endure a lecture. ‘So he’s gone to Spain because of some event that happened when he was learning the arts of the magician.’

  ‘Ye-es,’ Hrype said guardedly.

  ‘A wrong was perpetrated against him, perhaps, that now he must put right,’ Jack went on.

>   ‘It is what I too suspect,’ Hrype agreed. ‘If the suspicion is correct, then I believe that he could not make this journey, and achieve this end which he appears to desire, without her. Without Lassair.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ But even as Jack spoke the words he had a dread sense that he did.

  Hrype sighed. Then, with a brief wry smile, he said, ‘I am sure you don’t. If I am to attempt an explanation it will, I fear, entail my speaking to you of matters on which I know full well you prefer to remain ignorant.’

  ‘I’m quite prepared to—’ But the hot words of protest died away, for Hrype was quite right. ‘Very well,’ Jack said. ‘I will try to set aside my prejudice and listen with an open mind.’

  Now Hrype was smiling openly. ‘I could not ask for more,’ he said, and there was clear irony in his tone. Then, hurriedly, as if he needed to speak while Jack’s unexpected tolerance lasted, he went on, ‘You probably are not aware, but in general men like Gurdyman need a second person with similar gifts in order to achieve their full power. It is called animus and anima, and it seems to work best if the two are of opposite sexes. Usually the master is male and the apprentice female, although I knew a pair where it was the other way round, and the alteration seemed to make no difference. The important factor is to have both male and female elements present, and—’

  ‘It’s why he took her on,’ Jack interrupted, the words harsh. ‘From what she has told me, it appears she believes he did her a great kindness in seeking her out as his pupil and sharing his vast knowledge with her. But she’s wrong, isn’t she? He didn’t do it for her.’

  ‘He did in part,’ Hrype replied. Then, with sudden fierce emphasis, ‘I have to believe he had her interests in mind as well as his own.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because it was I who told him of her existence.’

  ‘You?’

  Hrype nodded. ‘I have known her all her life. I watched her grow from an awkward colt of a child into girlhood, and I saw, even as her aunt did, that she had potential, and not only as a healer. Edild – her aunt, and now my wife’ – Jack nodded impatiently, for he already knew – ‘taught her, and Lassair went to live with Edild. She fulfilled all of Edild’s hopes; perhaps exceeded them. We both saw that there was more to her than a village healer, and I began to understand that a very particular path had been decreed for her. Although Edild was not then aware of the truth about her bloodline, I was, and it encouraged me to believe there was something … extra in her nature.’ He glanced at Jack. ‘I will not elucidate, save to say that long-guarded secrets were finally revealed, and Lassair had to face some deeply unsettling facts about her family.’

  Jack nodded. ‘I would not ask you to betray any confidences.’

  Hrype studied him, a half-smile on his face. After a moment he continued. ‘In the course of these revelations, it came to pass that Lassair’s inheritance was put into her hands. As soon as we – Gurdyman and I – saw how she was able to interact with the power that lies within this object, there was no longer any room for doubt.’ He glanced at Jack. ‘She has in her guardianship something very special,’ he said, lowering his voice, ‘and it—’

  Jack nodded. ‘I know.’

  ‘You know?’

  ‘I have never seen this object,’ he admitted, ‘but I’ve long suspected there is something she carries about with her that has power.’

  ‘You have, have you?’ Hrype murmured. He was looking at Jack with an expression of deep interest. ‘Strange. Most people have no awareness of it whatsoever.’ His eyes narrowed suddenly, then it seemed to Jack that he nodded infinitesimally, as if something had just been confirmed to him.

  ‘So, when you judged that she had potential beyond what her aunt was capable of teaching her, you introduced her to Gurdyman. He too saw what you had seen and he took her on as his pupil. His apprentice,’ Jack said. His voice was harsh now, for he was impatient suddenly with Hrype’s air of mystery; with his knowing expression that said he was able to understand arcane matters that were far too deep for ordinary men. ‘And while it might have appeared that the gratitude should be all hers, for Gurdyman was introducing her to a far wider world than that encompassed by a remote fenland village, in fact it was he who needed her, for even back then he was looking ahead, into the future, and knew that he could not progress to this – this task, or mission, or whatever it is, that they have set out on without her.’

  ‘That, I fear, is about right,’ Hrype agreed. ‘He has, I believe, been delighted and somewhat amazed at what she can do; at how swiftly she learns.’ Abruptly he shook his head, as if forcefully stopping that line of thinking. ‘But this is irrelevant, for what you are concerned about is her safety. As am I,’ he added quietly.

  ‘Gurdyman has taken her into danger,’ Jack said dully.

  ‘Yes. I do not like to think that my old friend is capable of such ruthlessness, but I fear very much that he is.’

  A heavy silence hung between them. Then, breaking it, Jack said softly, ‘Gurdyman has been waiting a very long time for this moment.’

  Hrype looked at him sharply. ‘What?’

  ‘It’s what you said, a few moments ago.’

  ‘Yes, I did, I did,’ Hrype said slowly.

  ‘So, why now? After waiting so long, why did he decide to set out now? I don’t know precisely when they left, although I suspect you do, but when I last saw Lassair the days were already shortening and the temperature growing colder. It’s not the time to set out on a long journey across the seas, and anybody who had a choice in the matter would wait until spring. So, I repeat: why did Gurdyman leave when he did?’

  Hrype nodded slowly. ‘Yes,’ he murmured. It sounded like a sigh.

  ‘That’s no answer,’ Jack said impatiently.

  ‘No, I’m aware of that.’ Hrype paused. ‘I might have known you’d notice,’ he muttered.

  ‘That it’s no time to go travelling?’

  ‘Yes.’ Then, talking swiftly and lowering his voice even further, Hrype said, ‘Something happened. A dead man was found propped up in the alley outside Gurdyman’s house – against the wall of his house, in fact – and Gurdyman found him. He was a vagrant, thin, dirty and ill-looking, and there was something in his hand: a single, fine, beautiful pearl.’

  ‘A pearl? But why—’

  ‘Don’t interrupt!’ Hrype said sternly. ‘I don’t know why this discovery upset Gurdyman so very much but I can swear to you that it did, for I went to visit him later that same day and found he had taken to his bed. He was deathly pale, his lips were blueish, he complained of pains in his chest and said his heart was not beating properly.’

  Dear Lord, Jack thought, not only has that old man taken Lassair off into the wild on some unknown and dangerous mission, but he’s unwell. What will happen to her if he sickens again when they are far from help? If he dies?

  Hrype was watching him, sympathy in his eyes. ‘She’s a healer, don’t forget,’ he said. ‘She carries many remedies in that satchel of hers, among them ones for what ails Gurdyman. He too carries a remedy – a powerful one – provided by Edild. If the worst happens and he has another collapse, Lassair will treat him just as I did.’

  ‘You knew what I was thinking,’ Jack said neutrally.

  Hrype grinned. ‘It wasn’t very hard to work it out.’

  Trying not to think about Lassair desperate to save a dying Gurdyman, out in the wilds of some strife-torn land with no friend to turn to, nothing to help her but her own wits and her own courage, Jack said, ‘So why should a dead beggar with a pearl in his hand cause the old man such distress?’ Hrype watched him, waiting, and, letting the thought that was developing in his mind come to completion, after a moment Jack added, ‘And why does the very mention of the vagrant – or perhaps it’s the pearl – make me so uneasy?’

  ‘Because I’ve just told you the effect it had on Gurdyman,’ Hrype said.

  ‘No. I was already worried, for—’ He stopped. His instinct had been not to r
eveal to Hrype that he’d been keeping an eye on Gurdyman’s house, but now he changed his mind. ‘I’ve been watching the old man’s house,’ he admitted. ‘Even when it became clear they’d gone away, I’ve persisted. And—’ The next part was difficult, but he was determined to explain. ‘And I’ve sensed that someone else has been doing the same.’

  ‘You have perhaps seen, or sensed, me?’

  But Jack shook his head. ‘No.’ Noticing Hrype’s brief smile, he said. ‘Oh, I’m sure you saw me, but I imagine you are far better at melting into the background than I am. What I sensed was deeply disturbing, for it felt – it felt as if it wasn’t really there. It was like a breath, or a sudden breeze through an opened door. More than once I have been quite sure somebody was standing close behind me but, when I turned to look, there was nobody there.’ He looked at Hrype, searching for understanding. ‘This sounds unreasoned and illogical, but it – whatever it was – didn’t seem fully human.’ He managed a short laugh. ‘No doubt you’ll tell me it was my imagination.’

  ‘It may well have been,’ Hrype replied, ‘but if so, it was something that was also in my imagination. Yes,’ he added, as Jack gazed at him in surprise, ‘I’ve experienced the same thing. I’ve even been inside the house,’ he said in a whisper, ‘and I fled in terror.’

  Jack watched him, not speaking. He understood what it must have taken for a man like Hrype to confess his instant of fear to someone like himself. The realization made him feel that Hrype might after all be somebody he could work beside.

  He reached for the warmed ale and topped up their mugs. ‘I think,’ he said, raising his in a silent tribute, ‘that we should try to discover more about this vagrant, how he met his death and how the pearl came to be in his hand.’

  And, raising his own mug to clink it softly against Jack’s, Hrype said, ‘I agree.’

  They drank. Jack knew, as he suspected Hrype did too, that the task had been taken on and would not be abandoned.

 

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