But it was still a long time until dawn.
* * * *
They settled eventually on a mound that rose like an island above the level of the fog. The horses were hitched near by – stamping, snorting, pulling at their tethers nervously. Sleep was not going to come easily this night.
Viviane and Olwen lay together for warmth under the two remaining cloaks, for Caradawc and Viviane had lost theirs to the mob. Gerin and Caradawc sat together at the highest point, ostensibly to keep watch, but the two young women could hear the low murmur of their voices for a long time. Occasionally they rose, stamping around in an effort to keep warm.
Viviane brooded about Idoc – remembering her promise never to leave him unless he should tell her that she might. She had started to regret that promise as soon as it was uttered, but she knew she could not go back on it. She was ashamed now that she had so nearly given up on her quest, and frightened too, for her only chance of ever being free of Idoc was for him to choose to be free of her – and without the help of the emerald she felt they did not stand a chance of that. Caradawc seemed to assume that Idoc had left her already, but she knew that he had not; and she knew also that as soon as she found what they were seeking, she would have to find Idoc whether he wanted to be found or not.
What would this mysterious jewel be like, she wondered, and what were their chances of finding it? She tried to sleep, knowing that she needed the strength of body and clarity of mind that sleep would give her, but it would not come. The events since she had followed that hart in the forest to the blind stone circle on the hill now passed and re-passed through her mind, and throughout she traced the slow unfolding of her understanding about the realms and levels of being through which we make our long life’s journey.
‘Are you asleep?’ Olwen whispered, knowing well that she was not.
‘No,’ Viviane confessed sadly.
‘Do you mind if I tell you something?’
‘Of course not.’ She was glad of a rest from her thoughts. ‘What is it?’
Having initiated the conversation, Olwen was now at a loss for words.
‘Is it about Gerin?’ prompted Viviane. She had already noted the subtle change in their relationship. When it had come time to take their positions for the night, she had noticed the secret look that passed between them. She hugged Olwen. ‘I’m glad,’ she whispered.
‘Is it so obvious?’
‘Couldn’t be more so!’
Olwen flushed and laughed. ‘I’m so happy,’ she said.
‘I know.’
‘I shouldn’t be, when we’re in such danger, but I just can’t help thinking how happy I am.’
‘What happened about the three soul-forms?’ Viviane asked. Olwen told her, knowing that she could tell Viviane anything and everything, and there would be no misunderstandings.
* * * *
At midnight Olwen was sleeping soundly but Viviane still lay awake. Glancing up, she suddenly realized that they were surrounded by a circle of tall, silent, hooded figures, darker than the moonless night itself. Terrified, she looked over at Caradawc and Gerin, who were supposed to be on guard; but they too were sleeping. She summoned the courage to call out, but found her throat was too constricted with fear to utter a sound. If she lay very still and pretended that she were asleep, might they leave her alone? But that was a forlorn hope. She had the feeling that those eyes – if eyes there were under those dark cowls – could not so easily be deceived. It was a wonder the hammering of her heart did not wake Olwen.
Time passed, and still the figures did not move. The uncertainty of their intentions began to drive her crazy. Anything – anything was better than this waiting!
Gradually anger began to take the place of fear and Viviane decided to act. Carefully she rose to her knees, then stood up. She was trembling, but determined to give a good account of herself. She did not even try to use her vocal cords, but demanded in thought who they were and why they stood there.
She waited for a reply, but none came.
Angrily she repeated the mental question, growing bolder.
Still no reply. She was surrounded by silent hooded darkness, and brooding malevolent presence.
On the third questioning she shouted aloud. ‘Who are you? Answer me!’
Caradawc jerked awake and hurried to her side, dagger drawn.
‘What’s the matter? Who are you shouting at?’
She pointed, anger giving way to terror again. Why would they not reply?
‘Where?’
‘There,’ she said. ‘All around us. Can’t you see them?’
Caradawc stared where she was pointing; stared all around them. He saw nothing – no one.
‘Can’t you see them?’ she shrieked, clutching his arm. ‘There! There! There!’
‘There’s no one there,’ he repeated firmly.
Gerin had joined them now, and Olwen was stirring.
‘She says she can see people surrounding us,’ Caradawc explained.
‘Where?’ said Gerin. He too could see no one.
Finally Viviane could bear it no longer. She rushed forward to beat at the dark figures with her fists, cursing them furiously. Startled, her companions watched, and could see nothing but a frantic woman beating and shouting at empty air. Then, suddenly, she disappeared.
At first they thought she must have fallen over the edge, and confidently expected to find her lying bruised and shaken in the slimy, creeping fog at the foot of the mound. The two men went at once to look for her, leaving Olwen still half asleep. She heard them calling out to Viviane, lightly at first, then in growing alarm. There was no sign of her at all.
* * * *
As Viviane’s fist had lunged at the first dark, hooded figure it passed right through, and she experienced a cold so intense she would never have believed it possible. Even if she had been on a dead world cut off from its sun, so distant from any source of heat or light that it had never known warmth of any kind, it could still not have been as cold as she now felt this. It was the cold of the ultimate negative, the cold of the void.
Too late, she tried to draw back. But she could not – and fell headlong into that cold and the darkness, and all feeling, all thought ceased.
* * * *
How long she remained in that state there was no means of her knowing. The World of Changes, where time could be measured before and after and during, had ceased to exist for her. And then scenes and events from her long spiritual life began to reappear to her, but she could not tell if they were from the past or from the future – and she did not care. The tower often appeared in these scenes. Strangers stood where Idoc had stood. Some called their work ‘sorcery’ and others called it ‘Science’, but all had one thing in common – they did not understand the truth of what they were and what they were doing. Spears became heat-seeking missiles; and though the language of those who ordered their use might change, the same motives drove them and by the same justice they were ultimately destroyed.
Suddenly Idoc was beside her. She could clearly see his face, cold and hard. Behind him stood the same dark, hooded figures whose faces she could not discern at all.
‘You left me,’ he reproached. ‘You broke your promise.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘You left me. I am still seeking the emerald for you.’
‘You seek it for Caradawc and yourself.’
‘No!’ she protested.
‘You cannot lie to me. I listened to you when you were not aware of it.’
‘Then you would know that what you say isn’t true.’
His eyes flashed darkly. ‘Once you bound me,’ he said, ignoring her last remark.
‘I also released you,’ she said hastily.
He ignored, this too. ‘It is now your turn to be bound.’
She looked in horror at the dark figures behind him. Was she to have to pay in full: to suffer what he had suffered; to be limited to one place and one time – never to journey through the realms and regions of that migh
ty scheme which even the archangels did not fully comprehend?
As though he read her thoughts, he answered her question. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ll not do to you what you did to me. The binding of which I speak is between you and me.’
She looked at him quickly, questioningly.
‘Step forward,’ he commanded and held out his hands to her.
She hesitated. Was there any way she could escape? The sinister figures had not moved, yet now they formed a tight circle around them.
‘Idoc,’ she pleaded. ‘We are bound and have always been bound by our destinies. There is no need for this.’
He was close to her now, looking down into her eyes. He was as handsome and as tall as when he had been her lover in that other life; and she trembled with something of her old desire. But his eyes were dark and full of bitterness. ‘You tried to leave me.’
‘No!’
He gripped her suddenly by the wrists and she cried out with the pain. He nodded at the figures ranged around them. ‘Begin!’ he commanded.
Slowly the hooded figures moved, gliding in a circle. At first she thought she heard a strong wind arising, but then realized it was them, the swish of their robes and the sinister whispering chant of the binding spell. She tugged and pulled desperately, but could not release herself.
‘Idoc,’ she cried. ‘I gave you my word. There’s no need for this.’
‘You will never leave me!’
‘Unless you say I may!’ she sobbed.
‘I will never release you!’ he declared fiercely. ‘There’s no end to your tricks – and I will not fall victim to them again. You will never leave me.’
It seemed to her that as the fell figures moved, invisible bands of amazing strength were being wound around Idoc’s body and her own, pulling them closer and closer together . . .
* * * *
In the morning sunlight the landscape revealed to Caradawc, Gerin and Olwen was very different from the sombre, grotesque landscape of the previous evening. Before first light the fog dispersed, and they found themselves on a green mound full of buttercups, shimmering green woods stretching off to the north, meadows of sweet grass and flowers to the south; and to the east, catching the gold of the sun, a vast and shining lake.
They stared at it in astonishment. Viviane’s lake. But there was no Viviane to view it with them.
They searched for her frantically, scarcely noticing now the beauty of the scene. Even Olwen, who had been so happy, could not enjoy her own happiness any longer.
At last, after hours of fruitless effort, they gave up in despair, and sadly talked of going home. But none of them wanted to leave the place without her.
It was Olwen who took the initiative finally. ‘We should continue looking for the emerald,’ she said firmly.
‘Without Viviane the whole thing is pointless,’ Caradawc said gloomily.
‘I don’t believe so,’ Olwen said. ‘We know her disappearance must have something to do with Idoc. The emerald was to help us free him from Ny-ak’s influence. If we achieved that – surely Viviane, too, would be released.’
‘If we found it! And if we could find Idoc . . .’
‘We will find it,’ Olwen said confidently. ‘We will find Idoc!’
Caradawc shrugged, unconvinced and totally despondent.
‘It’s worth trying,’ Gerin broke in. And after more hesitation Caradawc reluctantly agreed.
But where to begin? Olwen wished she felt as confident as she sounded.
‘We were directed to this lake,’ she murmured thoughtfully, ‘so surely it is here that we’ll find it.’
The three of them stared out over the lake. Its placid waters seemed to extend forever, silver-grey with hardly a ripple. A heron flew over effortlessly, its reflection swimming beneath it.
‘It’s no ordinary lake,’ Olwen sighed, ‘but it’s no ordinary gem that we’re looking for. There will be a way of finding it, but it won’t be the way we expect. I suggest we let it happen rather than try to make it happen.’
The shoreline was edged with fine dove-grey pebbles and pure white crystal sand. Near by, the water rolling the pebbles had excavated small tunnels and caves under the roots of a huge old oak tree that leaned over the lake. In some places the roots had grown round the pebbles, enclosing them, so that rock and tree seemed to be of one substance – as they had appeared to Viviane in the Green Lady’s chapel.
It was Gerin who first noticed a boat drawn up on the beach, and they ran towards it. But it proved to be only a small canoe: far too small to carry the three of them.
‘It was probably intended for Viviane,’ Olwen commented, ‘but I think one of us should use it.’
‘I’ll go,’ said Gerin at once.
‘No, I will,’ Caradawc argued.
But Caradawc was too heavy for it – and so was Gerin. They turned to look at Olwen. Without a word she climbed into it, and they pushed her out on to the cool, clear waters. Looking down she could see tiny fish darting over the white sand, weaving in and out of the golden ripples. As she glided further from the shore, the water became deeper and the fish larger. A great salmon leapt out into the air with a marvellous curving movement – glinting silver briefly in the sunlight before it returned to its own medium with a sound as musical as the plucking of a harp.
‘I wish, dear God,’ Olwen whispered, ‘that Viviane were here. But as she isn’t, please let me find the emerald . . . and with it Viviane.’
She discovered that she did not need to use the paddle at all, because the canoe seemed to slide through the water by itself, the wake silver behind, a path of gold ahead. Surely she had already travelled further than the distance to the furthest shore?
Looking back, she could no longer see either Gerin or Caradawc. She thought she should be frightened, but in fact felt no fear. Instead she felt amazingly peaceful and happy. The canoe stopped suddenly, and she sat there in the warmth of the sunlight, smiling at the beauty of it all – almost forgetting why she was there. Leaning over the side she gazed down into the water. It was so clear that she could see to the white crystal sand of the lake-bed.
On it lay, in full view, a huge emerald, its many facets catching the light from different angles as the water stirred and rippled gently over it. She held her breath in awe and delight.
‘Ah, poor Lucifer,’ she thought, ‘to lose such a gem!’
As she slipped into the water, the canoe rocked wildly, and the disturbance to the water caused the rays of light from the jewel to break up and scatter as though a million emeralds had been at that moment flung into the lake. Twice she dived, and twice she missed the true gem by seizing only its reflection – but the third time her hand closed on the real one, and she drew it up to the surface with her.
She had to struggle to get back into the boat, but then set off at once for the shore. By contrast, returning, she had to paddle very hard, the huge emerald resting in her lap.
Suddenly a shadow passed over her and she looked up in alarm. High, high above her a gigantic bird circled, coasting on the thermal currents of air, watching her keenly. Even from this distance she could make out a wing-span wider than the greatest eagle, the beak hooked and sharp, the talons deadly dangerous. But its feathers were the purest gold and she realized that this must be the fearsome, beautiful bird that Viviane had witnessed.
Olwen folded her skirt over the emerald protectively. Had the mighty creature merely been waiting for her to retrieve the jewel – and now intended to snatch it away before they even had a chance to use it?
She heard a shout, and to her joy saw Gerin wading into the water to greet her. He put his hand on the edge of the boat and leant forward to kiss her, before even asking if she had been successful.
‘You disappeared across the water,’ he said. ‘I thought I’d lost you forever.’
Her happiness knew no bounds. Triumphantly she held up the gem. As the sunlight caught it, a blaze of green light almost blinded them all. Then words seem to flow from
her unbidden as she stood on the lake-shore clasping the extraordinary jewel – strange words and strange names that meant nothing to her. A sudden mist began to roll in from the shining lake, and it billowed like smoke along the shore. For a moment her companions could not see her, and then just as suddenly it lifted, revealing everything as it had been before – except for one extra figure.
‘Idoc!’ yelled Caradawc, rushing forward. ‘Where is Viviane?’ he demanded angrily.
‘She is here.’
‘Where?’
‘With me. She is mine now and you will never touch her again.’
Then they saw her: a grey, submissive form a step or two behind him – her shoulders hunched, all life and strength drained out of her, hardly recognizable.
‘What have you done to her?’ screamed Caradawc. Furiously he tried to seize him, but found he could not. Idoc’s figure looked solid enough, but when Caradawc reached for him, there was nothing there.
‘Idoc,’ Olwen cried out, ‘forget the images of your dark mirror. We have found the emerald. See!’
‘I see no emerald,’ Idoc said coldly, deliberately not looking at what she held in her hand.
‘Here!’ she persisted. She could sense that he was struggling to resist the temptation to gaze at the amazing jewel.
‘Viviane!’ commanded Olwen. ‘Look at the emerald.’
Idoc raised his hand as Viviane started to take a step forward. ‘No!’ he said; and she retreated at once, her chin sunk on her breast, her long grey hair half covering her face.
‘Look up, Viviane. Look up!’ urged Olwen.
‘I cannot.’ Viviane’s voice was faint and expressionless. ‘I belong to Idoc . . . I owe him . . .’
‘No! You owe him nothing!’cried Olwen. ‘All has been paid. You have given him another chance – and you yourself are given another chance.’
She brandished the jewel in the air, and the air swirled and shimmered with green light – brilliant shafts of it probing deep into their hearts . . .
Idoc and Viviane looked up, startled.
The Tower and the Emerald Page 26
