by Gail Merritt
‘You ask a lot of questions for a girl! Mind your own business. As soon as your horse is ready you’d better be on your way. Strangers aren’t welcome here. This is the village of Silver Mantle.’
‘Silver Mantle?’ I almost choked on the words and the fox disappeared round the corner.
‘That’s right!’ The second woman could not resist her opportunity to boast. Her apple loft forgotten for a moment. ‘Of all the villages in the Meed, she chose ours for her new home.’
‘What happened to the Talarin? I asked. ‘I thought the Mantles lived there.’
‘She doesn’t tell us everything!’ the women made it clear that I was not to follow and then they hurried on their way. I waited for the fox to creep back from his hiding place.
‘She’s not really here, you know.’
‘She can’t be,’ I agreed. I would have felt her and she would have known I was near too. Whoever this woman was, she was not Olemia, Silver Mantle. ‘I have to find out more about what is happening here. Trouble is, they will see me and I won’t be able to get anywhere near her.’
‘I could go.’
‘You don’t think a fox would stand out too?’ I scratched his head gently. ‘It would be easy if I could use my powers, I could just Mind Travel there but I’m not sure the Souran would call this an emergency.’ We stepped into the shadows of an awning outside a cobbler’s house just in time to avoid being seen by the next couple of women carrying offerings.
‘If you can’t use magic, fall back on cunning,’ advised the fox. How could you get the next two women to take you with them? How could you make it difficult for them to ignore you?’
When the next pair appeared, I was walking towards them, I even smiled broadly as we crossed, then I fell, letting out a dreadful yell that stopped them and brought them back to me. They were full of concern. I cried that I’d been warned to leave and now I wouldn’t be able to ride my horse. I needed help. Who could possibly heal my ankle? Look it was already swelling. Was there anyone in the village with special skills who could help me? I bawled.
‘We should tell Silver Mantle. She could cure the girl surely?’ The women helped me to my feet but it was impossible for me to walk, the pain was dreadful. I was sure I’d done something dreadful.
‘Poor child, you come along with us. Try to hop if you can. We’ll take you to the Lady. She will help you.’ They started to half-drag, half-carry me. Behind us I could hear the fox chuckling. We hobbled through narrow alleys until we came to a large house with glassed windows and two chimneys. It had belonged to the town’s wealthiest merchant, a tanner, who had been reluctant to surrend his house to The Lady until she had cursed him. He was dead the following morning.
‘She must have some very powerful magic!’ I whispered as we drew closer. In truth, I could not help scanning the building to seek out a powerful mind but there was silence. Whoever this woman was, she was clever enough to disguise her strength or she had no power at all.
Two large men, their faces carrying the trophies of many fist fights, and several knife scars, came out to meet us. After some discussion, during which the women stood their ground, demanding that Silver Mantle cure me, the men, looking far from pleased, agreed to admit us all. One of them picked me up as if I was a rag doll and threw me across his shoulders. I took great pleasure in screaming in his ear that he’d hurt my ankle, why I even suspected my leg was now broken. He grunted, struggling up the stairway with me, taking more care to set me down on the floor in the middle of a very large room. Ordinarily, this would have been a large dining room, where the merchant entertained his guests but now it was cleared of furniture, except for a chair at the far end. A woman, perhaps a little older than my step-mother, with a sallow complexion and thin brown hair was sitting, her hands resting on the chair arms, her eyes closed. The lids of her eyes were painted black with false eyeballs, her lips were blood red. I wondered what Silver Mantle would say if she saw such a hideous forgery of herself.
‘Lady, this child needs your magic.’ The brave townswoman dropped to her knees beside me. At first the serene creature in the chair did not move and some of the women grew uncomfortable and coughed. I was growing tired of imagining my pain. I tried to do this clearly and as wholly as I could, just in case she could read minds. At last, she inhaled deeply.
‘What do you want of me?’ Her voice was low and her tone so serious and heavy with drama that I almost laughed. Not even the voice Black Mantle reserved for the worst misdemeanor could compare with the ominous threat in her tone. She began to sway and make mooing noises. I looked to the woman who continued to kneel beside me but she just shook her head. Apparently, this was all part of Silver Mantle’s method of conducting an audience with the townsfolk.
‘This child has a simple injury, why do you bring her to me?’
She looked down her nostrils at me and I tried to look angelic and in pain. She must have decided that it was best to show some compassion, so she bend down and touched my head. I could smell wine on her breath. I think some of the women thought that she was healing me, so to dispel their hopes I winced. While she was listening to the women’s explanation of how they had found me and also the fact that their supplies were almost exhausted, I tried to assess the powers of the false mantle. She had a clever mind, quick to evaluate situations, sharp enough to take full advantage of situations, cunning and sly, but it was a mind without the skills of a Mantle. Nevertheless, I was cautious. My knowledge of the world was limited and perhaps there existed other forms of power, unknown in the Talarin.
‘The child needs rest. You may leave her here with me. Go now.’ I did not really like the idea of that and I wondered what devious plan she was contemplating. ‘The child will be sent to the Talarin for treatment. My servants will take her. Collect all her possessions and bring them here to me.’ The more she said, the less I liked it.
The women presented her with their gifts and departed, leaving me at her feet. Before I could move, she kicked me in my back.
‘You are an inconvenience to us that we don’t want! So now we have you, we will have to deal with you.’ Her cold eyes sparkled as she pulled my head back with my hair. This woman had no power except that which is grown from menace and terror, fed by selfishness and greed.
‘What are you going to do?’ one of the men asked her.
‘Kill her, what d’ya think!’ her answer was calm and cold. ‘We say she made a complete recovery and we sent her off back to her loving family. These fools will never know. Do it later. I have the elders coming now. They probably want to complain about something. Take her to the barn, get the horse from the blacksmiths then come back here.’ She gripped my chin in her hand. ‘Poor little pretty. Pity little pretty. Dead - and you’ll not be so pretty!’
I was stunned by her venom, panicking as I tried to think how to use my power against her when one of the men hit me with something and the world went dark. I came too in the barn. The fox had gnawed through the ropes at my wrists and feet and was licking me furiously. His breath smelt of dead rabbit.
‘How long have I been here?’ I nursed the back of my head.
‘Not long. It’s still light.’
‘Let’s get away as fast as we can,’ Gilbert suggested from the stall behind me.
‘I can’t do that.’ I turned to speak to him but wished I hadn’t. There was pain in my head and neck. ‘This woman and her gang are doing terrible things in the name of Silver Mantle. I can’t allow her to continue but I can’t use my powers either.’
‘I’ve thinking about that, while you were having your little rest.’ The fox gave me a sly grin. Oh yes, foxes can grin. ‘Let’s out trick the trickster.’ He set out his plan and I put it into action as soon as we had discussed it.
We waited in the barn until a large group of men came out of the merchants house. They were met by some of the women and none of them sounded happy. I ran out into the sunlight before them, yelling loudly so that soon the whole square was full of peopl
e.
‘She healed me!’ I twirled around so that everyone could see and hopped on my right leg. ‘Look at that I couldn’t even stand on it before, now look at me.’ The women were laughing and some people even clapped. ‘She cured me!’
‘Wait!’ The woman who had pleaded for me came forward. ‘I saw this girl earlier. She fell on her left leg. Why is she showing us her right one?’
‘Oh, you’re wrong,’ I told her laughing but looking a little worried, ‘it was the right leg.’
‘No it wasn’t,’ said another woman, ‘it was definitely the other leg.’
The crowd began to mutter it’s doubts as I continued to try to convince them. The Mantle’s gang had come out to investigate the noise and they were beginning to look a little nervous. I protested that The Lady had cured me and then looked to the gang as if asking for their help. It was enough to convince some of the villagers that I was in league with them.
‘This is all a lie,’ one of the elders said, raising his arms. ‘It’s a trick to make us think she’s been cured.’
‘No!’ I told him. ‘Silver Mantle cured me.
‘Nonsense!’ he went on. ‘In fact, I don’t think she is Silver Mantle at all!’
There was a gentle murmur as people thought back over the time they had been playing host to this demanding women and her thugs. Those very thugs were beginning to move backwards out of the square, back to the merchant’s house. The crowd saw their retreat and followed. They set out after them like hounds on the hunt, and we could hear them beating down the strong door of the merchant’s house, yelling for Silver Mantle to face them. I looked to Gilbert and the fox.
‘I think we can leave now.’ No one stopped us. They were all too busy reclaiming their town. I felt no sympathy for the false mantle or her men, as the townspeople pelted them with fruit, for I am certain that what ever befell them would have been far worse had the true Silver Mantle punished them.
We left Stovin in high spirits, travelling south to Gaheil in the Central Meeds and stayed at the charming manor of the Lord of the Gathering. I had met his son, Korin, at Ardin’s birthday celebrations and Lord Stiva was an old friend of my father’s. I had hoped to rid the town of a monster or two from the nearby caves but for two generations no one had actually seen anything fearful emerge from the caverns. There were lots of wild tales that everyone at the Meed Court knew and everyone had their favourite monster from the two-headed giant dog to the serpent with a man’s head. I visited the caves with Korin but we found nothing more terrifying than a noisy colony of bats and an angry billygoat that took a dislike to the fox.
It would have been pleasant to remain at Gaheil but winter was already in the north and was fast creeping southwards. I still felt that I had learnt very little from the quest. The fox, as usual, was my conscience. One morning he announced that he and Gilbert were ready to leave. I thanked our hosts and we were on the road before noon, travelling towards the forests of Lore, the ancient remnant of the woodlands that had once covered much of the Five Kingdoms. It remains wild, untamed and seldom frequented, unclaimed by either Magra or Dereculd. Surely it would be where an aspiring mantle might discover the reason for her quest.
12.
The Forests of Lore
We camped that night on the limestone ridge that overlooked the northern boundary of the forest, arriving in the twilight of a warm afternoon with clear skies. At our backs stretched the rolling southern downs, bathed in the dying sunlight. Before us, all we could see in the gathering gloom was the dark mass of foliage spreading out from the base of the ridge to the horizon. It was not a welcoming prospect, made less so by the occasional howl of a distant wolf pack, well hidden in the green-grey tree cover. We huddled closer to each other around our fire and watched the stars until we slept.
The morning drizzle urged us to break camp early and follow the narrow path that meandered down the face of the ridge. Gilbert was nervous, desperate not took look down and fretting about his weight so close to the edge.
‘If it crumbles I’m done for!’ he muttered behind me. I was leading him and carrying as many packs as I could to lighten his load. ‘If you feel me slipping, you just let go as quick as you can. I don’t want to pull you after me. I don’t want your death on my conscience.’
‘If you’re dead, you won’t have a conscience!’ the fox assured him. ‘Keep going, you’re doing well. We should get there by sunset.’
‘Why does everything you say to me always have a sarcastic edge to it! You could try to be a little more sympathetic. Not everyone is as light as a feather and the poise of a dancer.’
‘Thank you for the compliment!’
‘Be quiet both of you,’ I hissed, ‘I’m listening.’
‘For what?’
‘For the sounds of the forest, rabbits, stoats, weasels, deer, birds. Listen! Can you hear anything?’ At the start of my conversation with Gilbert, I had felt a change in the air around me and as their banter had grown, the forest below us had grown silent.
‘How curious,’ Gilbert whispered. ‘You can always hear someone jabbering away, even if you can’t understand what they’re saying. I find birds very hard to listen to, the timbre of their voices grate and their diction is far too staccato for anyone to follow, repetitive too.’
The fox and I both shushed him and all three of us listened. Nothing! No voices, no snuffling, no scraping, no cracking of twigs or crackling of dried leaves. It was as if everything down there was standing motionless, listening for something, just as we were standing motionless, listening for something too.
Finally the fox spoke in my head. ‘I don’t like it down there. Let’s go back.’
Gilbert spoke urgently to both our minds, ‘I can’t go back! I can’t turn around. We have to go down, even if it’s just to get enough space for us all to turn back.’ Suddenly, from deep in the forest came a sound that lifted hairs from skin and scoured fear in minds. A bellow, so unknown that even the air stood still to feel it.
‘What was that?’ the fox crept closer to Gilbert.
‘I could try to turn round,’ Gilbert muttered as the sound repeated, closer this time.
‘Monsters from Gaheil?’ the fox squeezed between Gilbert’s legs and the wall of rock.
‘No creature I know,’ I said. ‘I cannot feel it in my head. I cannot touch it through our minds, yet it lives.’ I began to move down the track. ‘I have to see it.’
‘Are you mad?’ The fox was now ahead of Gilbert. ‘Even the trees stop growing when that things bellows, and you want to see it?’
‘I have to know.’
‘Well I think you’ll get your wish, it’s coming our way.’ Gilbert was shaking as he stared down into the dark forest. The trees shook and parted as if something huge was pushing them aside. He was right, it was coming towards us, travelling faster than any beast I knew.
‘Gilbert,’ I told him, ‘the track is wider here and in shadow. Come stand here and press yourself closer to the rock. Fox, you should come here too.’ They did as they were bid and together, we observed the passage of the unknown thing as it came to the foot of the cliff. In the fading light, the beast was almost invisible until it came into the clearing directly below the cliff. Its shaggy brown shoulders stood higher than a man and the enormous horns caught the first of the moonlight.
‘Auroch!’ The fox whispered reverently. It heard him and lifted its magnificent head, peering up at us. It sniffed. Although I knew we could not be seen, it had found us by our scent. Once more I tried to speak to it but felt nothing.
‘I thought they were all dead!’ Gilbert whinnied as I crept back into the light. ‘You hear stories but they’re all gone, died out before the first men came up the Listi.’
‘Apparently not,’ I said. The beast looked up at me and bellowed once more. We were three times its height above it but the warmth and stench of its breath flooded over me. It pawed the ground and we felt the vibration. Then it moved along the foot of the cliff to where the path
began.
‘It’s coming for us!’ Gilbert was now shaking so much his bridle jangled in the dark.
I reached into my packs and took out my fire box and the flax wadding that I could wrap about a stick to fashion a torch. Now the beast’s eyes grew wide.
